


Spring Fever

by Tsukiko Hoshino (Ophiras)



Series: For All Seasons [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: F/M, One very oblivious person, Sai is gunning for the coveted position of Best Man., Sakura just wants to get married and have kids, The imaginary clock is ticking really loud for her, almost midlife crisis, but maybe not in that exact order at the rate she's going
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:28:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23273998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ophiras/pseuds/Tsukiko%20Hoshino
Summary: A year out from turning thirty Sakura began to panic. She wasn’t married, she wasn’t in a serious long-term relationship--or any relationship at all. Every date she’d gone on for the past 3 years ended disastrously and she absolutely blamed it on her job. But mostly on Sasori.She would find with time that most of her problems were in the end Sasori related.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Sasori, Sai/Yamanaka Ino
Series: For All Seasons [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2021993
Comments: 175
Kudos: 364





	1. Germinal

A year out from turning thirty Sakura began to panic. She wasn’t married, she wasn’t in a serious long-term relationship--or any relationship at all. Almost every date she’d gone on for the past 3 years ended disastrously and she absolutely blamed it on her job.

Being the private doctor to Sunagakure’s royal family was without a doubt prestigious. It had given her wealth way beyond what she’d ever dreamed of and had undoubtedly exposed her to more then she’d expected. One tended to find themselves well traveled after having been to every country more than once in the span of five years. Sakura had met world leaders, dignitaries and more famous people than she could recall--a percentage of which she didn't wish to.

On the downside her job was also trashing her meager personal life and destroying any hope she had of getting married before she hit middle age. Sakura was only in charge of 6 people but they seemed to have a crisis everytime she blinked. Chiyo and Ebizō were quite old and had chronic issues so she expected to be needed by them frequently but the rest of them…She was convinced Sasori was a hypochondriac or just in possession of a sadistic streak bigger than the nation. ‘Why not both?’ she thought bitterly. He’d gone to medical school himself, realized he had no patience and even less of a bedside manner before moving on to the more clinical side of things.

‘Now he owns several pharmaceutical companies in conjunction to being a Lord or whatever the hell his stupid royal title is.’ and whatever other shady dealings he undoubtedly got up to. Once, Sakura had to sew up a bullet wound and he had the audacity to complain that her stitches were too big and that it would scar. ‘And he never did tell me what the hell happened.’ Vain bastard. As a self proclaimed artist he certainly did fit the eccentric stereotype. 'He really can make beautiful things when he wishes...' she's seen him hand carve lovely little figurines to pass the time.

It was beyond tempting to tell him to fix himself especially when she got 4 AM calls demanding she come and look him over after some return trip from a foreign country and adding into that the fact that Kankurō was accident prone, Gaara was an insomniac and until very recently Temari had been the blessedly normal one. ‘Except now she’s just had a baby and is also acting _insane_.’

9 pm on a Sunday and Temari had called--which wasn’t unnatural because If 3 month old Shikadai so much as breathed in a way Temari deemed odd while he slept it was grounds for calling Sakura and demanding she come over just to check on him--this time he was apparently crying like mad, nothing she did seemed to be enough and Shikamaru was away for business.

It was less of a medical problem and more of a _“You’re my friend please come help me_.” plea and Sakura couldn’t say no.

By that point she was already very familiar with taking care of Shikadai and assuaging new-mom fears. ‘Maybe I should have gone into pediatrics.’ She thought, pacing the floor and rocking the mostly silent babe-- who in her expert opinion was likely suffering from a bout of colic. She was finding that infants were far easier to appease than adults as a whole. 'If they're hungry you feed them, when they're dirty you change them and if they just want attention you hold them.' If only adults were so easy to deal with.

“He likes you.” Temari yawned, collapsed into a nearby rocking chair. Even though she was clearly exhausted there was a visceral happiness to her, she practically glowed with it. “Any time Gaara or Kankurō pick him up he just fusses...sometimes I don’t think he even likes his dad.”

“That's because Shikadai is a boy of discerning taste.” Sakura grinned, cheek rubbing against dark downy hair. It was clear he was fresh from a bath from the scent of soap and that in her opinion was one of the best smells in the world. It was more likely that Shikadai just preferenced boobs as his criteria for liking someone at that point in his life.

Temari snickered, using the stuffed green T-rex under her head as a pillow. ‘Sounds like someone else we know.’ but that was not her business--she just didn’t have the energy or the inclination to get involved with Sasori’s version of courting which seemed to revolve around running Sakura ragged with weird requests. ‘Just last week he asked her to run a blood sample like she was a lab technician.’ And she’d done it because by the rosette’s reasoning she was being paid _way_ too much money to just refuse.

No, Sasori’s business was his own but if he kept dithering around thinking Sakura was going to have a sudden epiphany towards his interest he was beyond wrong and no amount of sabotage run by him or for him by helpful family members was going to help. ‘Sakura is a genius but when it comes to romantic pursuits subtlety is completely lost on her.’ Her cousin, who preferred endeavors that were high risk and high reward was too focused on trying to be a stealthy needle edging it’s way under Sakura’s skin when what he really needed to make it a success was a hammer.

The sigh that filtered out of Sakura’s lips kept her from slipping completely into the desired state of sleep Temari was longing for. She dragged her eyes open and got a good look at Sakura cuddling her cheek against her son’s. Not for the first time she found herself feeling pretty blessed that they were friends and not simply employer and employee. “You know you’d make a good mom yourself.”

“Now you’re just flattering me so I keep running to your aid no matter the time.” Sakura teased, though she did pause rocking as hands wet with spit began tugging at her hair.

“Well two things can be true at once.” Temari huffed. “Honestly I’m surprised you're not married by now. Youth doesn’t later forever, before you know it poof--your window is gone.” She hadn’t meant it to be disparaging towards her unwedded friend, it was more of a commentary on the sad state of mankind as a whole that they let quality just slip through their fingers out of hubris. ‘At least Shikamaru had sense.’ she thought, eyes finally giving up their fight against sleep. The T-rex was surprisingly comfy.

Temari in her innocent commentary had hit the nail on the head. It was everything Sakura was thinking but wasn’t saying put in the simplest of terms.

If Sakura wanted to examine where her sudden concerns were coming from she didn’t have to think too hard about it. Frequently being around Temari and Shikadai was more than enough to push the thoughts to the forethought of her mind. As annoying as having to drag herself out of bed before the sun even rose and drive down to Temari’s modest mansion might have been chubby hands and cheeks made her forget all about it. ‘And there was what Temari said too…’

She’d always wanted to get married and have kids--in the same vein that she’d always wanted to be a doctor. There had never been any reason for her to think she couldn’t have it all eventually. ‘Except eventually suddenly seems like a very long way away.’ and she just wasn’t sure she could keep waiting for a perfect partner to make it happen. The sad facts of biology dictated that while men got better with age women didn’t. The prime childbearing years were from a woman’s late 20’s to mid 30’s and she was fast approaching that benchmark.

‘Well, there is just one thing to do.’ Quit. She had to quit. It might be painful because she’d grown so close with everyone over the years but surely they would understand.

Even though she resolved to do just that Sakura couldn’t exactly just run out of the house now that Temari was asleep and Shikadai _wasn’t_ , which was how she found herself wandering down the master staircase with an increasingly fussy baby.

“Oh, I see you’ve added nursemaid to your resume. How quaint.”

Sakura strangled the scream that lingered in the back of her throat purely for Shikadai’s sake when she caught sight of the man reclining in one of the wing-back chairs that dominated the formal room. Temari and Shikamaru might have had more modern tastes but old money and old houses came with a certain aesthetic that needed to be fulfilled. “Do you even knock?” She supposed it wasn’t really her place to be offended at his method of entry when it wasn’t even her house. If anything she was just sore that by nature he was like a cat and someone should have put a bell on him ages ago.

“When necessary.” Cryptic, ominous. Just what she’d come to expect from him.

“Temari is sleeping so…” Scram, buzz off, the words came to mind but didn’t tumble from Sakura’s lips because she never knew if Sasori would take amusement with her nerve or affront and the last thing anyone wanted was to be targeted by a vexed Sasori. She’d seen it often enough to know that getting too far on his bad side was grounds for having one's career and entire life destroyed with a phone call or a story slipped to the press and while she didn’t have any proof Sakura was pretty sure he’d killed at least one man after a failed assassination attempt. ‘It's hard to be proven dead when you go missing from jail and are never seen again though.’

Once, the thought might have bothered her but in the years that she’d been in residence Sakura had come to the realization that Suna was very much mired in the old ways even as the countries around it modernized. They were a true monarchy, not the parliamentary sort or the ones with figure heads adored by the masses for essentially nothing. Every member of the Kaze line had an active role in running the country aside from their other pursuits. The problem with that sort of power was that it was often under attack, sometimes it came in the form of political movements and sometimes it came as a rifle from a rooftop or a knife in a dark corridor.

Sakura had the misfortune of seeing both events and the results they left behind and she knew that Sasori and his cousins often used less than savory methods of their own to deter others who sought to try their own luck. She couldn’t say that she wholly approved but after being stuck under sniper fire herself she’d become more...flexible by necessity. Whatever stopped someone from blowing her head off as she crossed from one building to another was fine by her.

“You don’t say…” Sasori held up a baby monitor from which Temari’s soft snores filtered through with perfect quality--it was so high tech it even had video although the woman’s form was out of frame since it focused on the crib.

Shikadai took his mother's moment of rest as his cue to begin full blown wailing--or perhaps it was his acknowledgement of Sasori's presence and no amount of bouncing, rocking or humming was of comfort. A quick check told Sakura he wasn’t soiled which only left hunger or just plain malcontent with the world. “Alright, I get it.” she glanced half hopefully in Sasori’s direction. “I don’t suppose you’ll hold him while I prep a bottle?”

Blood relatives or not, Sasori’s lips curled faintly with distaste. “You know I detest children that aren’t mine.”

“You don’t have any.” At least none that anyone knew of but then again the general antipathy he seemed to treat just about _every_ being with made her pretty sure Sasori wasn’t one to sow his wild oats and It wasn’t the first time he’d said that but Sakura still found the phrasing to be interesting.

There had been a time early in their acquaintance where she’d truly thought he was gay because the only person outside his family that he seemed particularly close to was that blonde guy with the long hair who didn’t seem to have any issues invading the shorter man’s personal space. In time Sakura’s opinion had evolved to assume he was completely asexual until that too proved to be unfounded. Walking into his office one day only to get an eyeful of some woman going down on him was sufficient proof for her to reconsider everything she'd assumed about him.

‘I mean he knew that I was on my way after he called me.’ and to this day Sakura swore Sasori was looking over the head of the woman sucking him off and right into her eyes. It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen him mostly naked before but the entire situation had been such a shock that she quite literally just went home without saying another word. The next day had been predictably awkward--for her. Sasori acted like nothing happened besides chiding her for running off.

He gestured a few feet away from him where there was a pram. “Exactly. I’ll watch him but that is all.”

Knowing that the quicker she went the faster she’d be back, Sakura settled the squealing infant down and left to warm up the milk she knew Temari pumped and saved. She came back in short order to see Sasori’s foot stretched across the floor idly rocking the bassinet, likely for the vain hope that the crying would stop. Digging her phone out of her side pocket, Sakura tossed it onto the table before gathering Shikadai back into her arms and taking a seat on one of the sofa’s. He took to the bottle with a voracious appetite. “And all's right with the world again.” She sighed in relief because baby cries had a way of not only piercing the ears but crushing the heart.

“I wouldn’t go that far but it's certainly an improvement.” Sasori drawled, head propped on the back of his hand after having crossed his legs now that one was no longer occupied. “Temari must be keeping you busy if he cries like that all the time.”

Sakura figured that by the way he was dressed he’d come over from some high society function that he hated. “No busier than someone else I know.” The words were barbed for a variety of reasons--mostly that she was sick to death of him calling her in the middle of the night and having to sleep in his guest room because she was too tired to drive home. ‘I mean he’s 36, his heart is fine, why do I keep having to check it? Not to mention the fact that he doesn’t even have the decency to fully clothe himself at breakfast!’

Then again he was the one making breakfast and it was his house so maybe she shouldn’t be too harsh about it but focusing on her blueberry pancakes was hard when bare-chested Sasori and all his svelte muscles were on display. ‘The sad fact of life is that he’s good looking and he knows it, we _all_ know it.’ and the pancakes were nothing to scoff at either. ‘The best pancakes…’ and the time before that had been homemade muffins and perfectly cut fruit. Sakura hummed at the pleasant memory because if left to her own devices breakfast was usually cereal or a granola bar and worst case scenario nothing at all.

“Girl--”

And that was another thing, she had a name--one he seldomly used but why off all things did he have to call her Girl?

_Bzzt ..._   
_Bzzt..._

Her phone buzzed across the table obnoxiously. “Hah?” By the time she’d already stretched across the table to answer it Sasori had already snatched it up and typed in the pass-code and pressed it to his ear. He didn’t fully retreat, fingers reaching out to snag the glittering trinket that fell out of her dress top. Sakura could have jerked away if she wanted to break the chain but it had been a recent present and likely an expensive one if she knew the man even a little bit.

Sasori wasn’t very good at verbally expressing his feelings--or rather he preferred not too. He was a rather firm believer that deeds weighed more than words and as such it wasn’t uncommon to receive gifts for something or another--the one he was currently seizing had been a recent birthday present.

“State your business.”

Sakura hissed at him because could he be any more rude? ‘Probably.’ and there was no point in asking how he knew the numbers to get in because _of course_ Sasori would know secret things. she couldn’t fight him for the phone between Shikadai in her lap and the arm she was using to hold the bottle.

‘And the damn yoke around my neck.’ She was basically half stretched out across the space between them and was second guessing her earlier decision not to break the thing he was holding her by. “Sasori…” There were times, usually when he was feeling insulted by some imaginary slight on her part that he insisted on being called by his title but such instances had become less over time.

The phone was cradled between his shoulder and ear as he shushed her.

He liked to be in control and he sought to remind others of their place. ‘Which when I think about it is sort of funny considering he cooks me breakfast.’ but that might have been out of necessity on Sasori’s part. If Sakura were to cook for him he’d probably assume it was an attempted poisoning and murder her. ‘But he could just cook for himself rather than for both of us.’ Her thoughts often went in circles concerning the nature of the man sitting before her.

“Oh? What a pity.” Only he didn’t seem so upset by whatever the person on the other line was saying, in fact he was clearly pleased by it. “Yes, I’ll be sure to tell her.” the words came out in all but a purr as the call disconnected and he let the phone drop. Long, dexterous fingers fiddled with the golden scorpion at the end of the chain, lengthy enough to fall just below her breasts. “You left your date waiting for an hour, he sounded livid.” The way his lashes fell over sienna colored eyes didn’t look sympathetic at all.

Sakura gasped because when she’d gotten Temari’s call she had completely forgotten about the fact she was supposed to meet Idate. “Oh no…” A part of her knew that there was basically nothing between her and Ibiki Idate--at least on her end. It was simply nice to be admired on occasion and not be left confused about whether the comments were genuine or not. ‘But this is only like...the fifth time I’ve stood him up.’ She could understand why he’d be mad.

The sound of quiet laughter the world seldom heard made her breath catch, green eyes growing wider. “I’m glad my misery amuses you.” Sakura shook the wonder from her bones with the toss of her head, pulling back enough that the jewelry began to bite into the back of her neck. A brief glance at Shikadai showed that he was almost to the dregs of his meal.

Sasori tsked, but the look in his eyes reminded her of…’No! don’t think about that.’ she chided herself, swallowing heavily. She really wished she’d never seen him getting a blow job. Things had been so much simpler when she thought of him as a really good looking sponge.

“As amusing as that is, it wasn’t what I was laughing about.” His index finger hooked within the chain and gave it a good tug. “It's just...wouldn’t most consider it poor form to wear one man’s gift to see another?” One look at it and most people who knew anything would scurry away.

Her brow furrowed as she considered the question. “Why would that be a problem…?” The weight of it dropped back against her sternum and the strain of being stretched out was relieved with the roll of her neck and shoulders.

“It isn’t for me.” Sasori replied looking like a cat who slaughtered a whole slew of canaries for no reasons that Sakura could discern.

‘I am absolutely writing my resignation tomorrow.’ and then just to make she wasn’t tempted to stick around she’d go halfway across the continent.


	2. Ventos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasori conveniently forgot that It's really only considered “Dating” When both parties know it.

Sakura wasn’t a complete idiot and she was perfectly capable of guile when the situation necessitated it. She knew that the best chance of extricating herself from the mess she’d found herself in would come when the majority of the Kaze family was busy. She’d had her resignation written for about a week when just such an opportunity arrived, half of it was sheer luck and the rest of it by design.  
  
Temari and Shikamaru were off visiting the Nara side, Kankurō was having a prolonged weekend with his current flavor of choice. ‘And I personally booked Chiyo and Ebizō into a wellness spa where they're going to be so busy with being pampered they’ll hardly think about me when I’m gone.’ At least she was hoping the treatment would soften whatever her sudden departure might bring.  
  
According to the two elders who made it their job to know where and what the youngsters were up to, Sasori was also away on business--some far flung town off the coast of Kaze which she vaguely recalled him mentioning at breakfast but then it was hard paying attention when she was busy staring. In any case, wherever Sasori was he _wasn't_ home which meant the perfect opportunity to slide her papers across Gaara’s desk had arrived.   
  
The rings around Gaara’s eyes were looking less black and more purple lately which probably meant he was sleeping more than he used too and she couldn't help but feel like their situations had gone in reverse. ‘I for one am looking forward to a month long coma after all this.’  
  
“Are we not paying you enough?” Teal eyes darted from the paper and back to the deliverer.  
  
Sakura snorted. “No, the amount has been more than generous but you know there are some things money just can't buy.” Like time and peace of mind. 'And sleep.'   
  
There was a reason why she’d chosen to wait until everyone else was gone or busy. Gaara wouldn’t try to guilt her or strong arm her into staying on. He’d ask pointed questions and attempt to compromise but would ultimately accept her decision. “This is purely due to personal reasons--I’ve more or less enjoyed my time working for your family. You know that I adore...well, _most_ of you.” it really depended on the hour of the day how she felt about Sasori.  
  
“But you’ve read it yourself that this resignation is immediate--I’ve given you the name of several possible replacements and I even called in a favor from one of my mentors. Shizune attended the same university and apprenticed under Tsunade years before me, she’s ready to come down immediately if needed.” In no small part thanks to Sakura blubbering and begging her over the phone the Monday that followed her resolution. ‘Sometimes crying works. I guess it just depends on who it's targeted at.’  
  
Sasori probably reveled in the tears of others after sneering at them. ‘That or he bathes in them. Maybe that's the secret to a perpetually pretty face...’ Sakura shook those thoughts off and focused on the task at hand. “Anyways I’ll be vacating my residence by the end of the week and I’ll drop all my keys off when I’ve finished.” Her house--as little as the time she actually spent in it may have been, _was_ provided by them. ‘And my car.’ Which was fine she had more than enough money that when she figured out what she was doing and where she was going she’d be able to buy whatever was needed.  
  
“You don’t have to rush.” Gaara was hoping it took her longer than a week because at least by then someone who was better at words or puppydog looks would be able to convince her to remain. They could afford just about any doctor they wanted--but who could match the qualities Sakura exhibited? ‘How many people are willing to wake up in the middle of the night just to talk someone through a night-terror?’ And he was thinking about that via experience. The human element that Sakura brought to her work was just as important as the technical aspects and she excelled at both.  
  
“Oh, don’t worry, I’m not.” All her packing was pretty much done and shipped off to a storage facility near her hometown until she figured out a more permanent living arrangement. ‘All except for things I’ve left at Sasori’s place.’ Because having to stay over on multiple occasions meant that her various effects had begun to pile up in that guest room. “Well, there is one more thing.” She set down 6 envelopes addressed to the various members of Gaara’s family, one baring his own name. “It's a bit sentimental of me.” she admitted.  
  
Suddenly it was feeling a lot less like Sakura was quitting a job to move onto greener pastures and more like she was bidding them all a fond farewell--which was deeply unsettling because his family didn’t take to outsiders easily but they were all in agreement about her. “You could deliver them yourself.” Or better yet, say whatever she’d written in them.  
  
“Well I would but you see I’m sort of on a time crunch--I booked a vacation.” Sakura was not the best of liars but she could manage if she stuck _just_ close enough to the truth. “Anyways it's not like you’ll never see me again and I’m really only a phone call away.” Although she wasn’t sure when she’d be seeing them much because in reality their social circles were wildly different and she wasn’t staying in Suna. ‘But If there was an emergency I would absolutely come back.’ But she was not getting on a plane for Sasori’s nonexistent heart issues or because Shikadai was sneezing.  
  
Gaara was visibly frowning, an almost striking sight because he usually preferred to emulate the stoicism his uncle predominately exhibited--without the oozing arrogance. “If what you wanted was a vacation all you really had to do was ask…” Thinking about he realized in the five years she’d been employed by them Sakura hadn’t had much time off and she worked abysmal hours. ‘Anytime someone calls whether it’s waking hours or night she picks up…’ He could see why she’d be exhausted.  
  
She waved her hand. “Think of this as more of me going on sabbatical…” Kakashi had a saying that she used to laugh at. ‘Getting lost on the road of life.’ Which was essentially what Sakura intended to do. “Anyways I really do have some errands to run.” she bowed in his direction formally. “Thank you for everything Gaara, it really has been a pleasure.”  
  
“You know I hate when you do that especially in private.” He grumbled having decided that it was not a good day and a series of even worse ones were to follow. “You can come back anytime.”  
  
“I know.” Sakura wriggled her fingers in farewell and then she was gone through the doors. There was a thirty minute drive to the house Sasori stayed at when he was in the capital and she had to riffle through about twenty keys until she found the right one because somewhere along the way she’d accumulated a key for just about every property the six of them owned collectively and that excluded vehicles. ‘And then there’s all the passcodes too.’ she thought, punching in the numbers of the security system. It was a wonder that she could remember any of her own information when it was mixed up with everyone else's.  
  
Going in through the side entrance put her in the mudroom that led into the kitchen, which coincidentally housed one of her favorite features of the house.  
  
“I am going to miss you so much.” Sakura sniffled and patted the top of the line espresso machine that had been installed the year before. ‘And Sasori doesn’t even drink coffee--the tea snob. What a waste.’ When she thought about it her life was about to change drastically now that she had a large chunk of time to herself. It felt weird that by morning she’d be back in Konoha, sleeping in her childhood room for the first time in years. ‘Well, best get on with it.’  
  
There were a few things that Sakura knew about Sasori with absolute certainty, one was that he had impeccable style, from clothing to interior design and the guest room she frequented was no exception to the rule. From the carpet beneath her feet with the rich, scrawling pattern she often got lost in to the vermilion and white colors that dominated the space, she’d never had any complaints.  
  
Sakura managed to fit just about everything she owned from the guest room and bathroom into two duffel bags--the amount surprised her but then she supposed that it was just a testament to how often she was called over. ‘That's all in the past now.’ She reminded herself and dropped the heavy set of keys in the place Sasori was most likely to spot them--the main entrance, on the table he normally set his own keys. _Everything_ had its proper place in his home.  
  
‘They’re his problem now.’ It was amazing how much lighter she felt without them all. ‘Now to catch a plane.’ she wondered if it would feel strange flying commercial again after all the private jets but Sakura had come from a humble background and she’d adjust easily.  
  
She put the code in one last time and left.   
  
When Sasori returned several days later he did give pause at seeing the keys but he figured that she must have been on the premises recently and left them behind. It would have been an oddly careless mistake of Sakura’s but it had happened once or twice in the past due to some incident or another. He was about to check the security log to see when she’d last been in but the ringing of his phone put that consideration aside.  
  
“I’m assuming you’re back?”  
  
It was a stupid question on Gaara’s part because Sasori was strict when it came to his schedule--but not so noticeably as to create a pattern that someone could tail him by, that would just be amateurism on his part. “I am.”  
  
“Then head to Grandmother Chiyo’s, family meeting. Temari will be in shortly and we both know you hate being the last one to show up.”  
  
Family meetings were also _not_ odd occurrences but Sasori usually had a general idea what they would be about _before_ they were called. There was an intense dislike he felt settling over his bones at being out of the loop. He shrugged it off after collecting Sakura’s keys. ‘We’ll have to have a talk about leaving these laying around.’  
  
The first words he uttered to the reigning monarch were “You look like garbage.” likely from a renewed lack of sleep over the past few days. That was _also_ not uncommon but Sasori had thought Sakura was making headway adjusting the other redhead’s sleeping patterns to something more healthy. 'Hardly my problem.' He decided.   
  
“Hn.” Gaara was even less chatty than usual if the monosyllabic responses were anything to go by.  
  
Kankurō looked up from the mahjong board between him and the most senior members of their family. “Oh, how’d it go in Ayu?” He honestly regretted asking when he was treated with the usual look that made him feel like he was five again. “Never-mind, I get it sheesh.” he drew a tile. “You know you two are looking oddly spry.” He squinted at his grandmother and great uncle.  
  
“Oh yes, that spa did wonders. My joints haven’t felt this good in ages.” Ebizō hummed as he scrutinized his pieces.  
  
Chiyo couldn’t disagree with that but there was something in her bones that had been nagging at her since Sakura organized that trip, she hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the girl or even heard a peep for that matter since returning. ‘Well it has only been a day since we got back.’  
  
But then Temari burst through the door in complete disarray--prior to having a baby the display would have been shocking but she was still hormonal and thus prone to showing more emotion than she normally would. “I-I...I went to bring Sakura cake from Konoha but her plants are gone!” and Sakura loved her plants. “I think she was kidnapped!”  
  
Shikamaru sighed lethargically from behind her. “Yes I’m sure we’re going to get a ransom note for Sakura and her plants at any moment.” He really hoped that they stuck to the one and done plan when it came to kids, Shikadai was lovable and all but Temari’s mood swings were _not_ so great. The baby wriggled in the harness strapped to his chest as if he could sense his father’s thoughts.  
  
“What? Was there any sign of a struggle?” Kankurō wondered, his bam tile dropping to the table with a clatter.  
  
“No but her plants…”  
  
“Why don’t we focus on the bigger picture here and follow it to the logical conclusion that _isn’t_ a kidnapping?” Shikamaru suggested after lazily draping himself into a seat, all he really wanted to do was go home and sleep but _someone_ had to be the voice of reason. “All of her things are gone. Which means she is gone. Draw your own conclusions.”  
  
Sasori didn’t like where his conclusions were leading him and the tension that drew his body taut was very good evidence of that.  
  
“Shikamaru’s got the right of it.” Gaara sighed and ripped the proverbial band-aid off now that everyone was around to feel it. “She put her resignation in last week and left these. “ He held up the letters.  
  
“Oho, clever girl.” Chiyo cackled because things were suddenly making so much more sense.  
  
“And you didn’t call me?!” Temari shrieked and then covered her mouth, fearful that the sound would make Shikadai cry. She’d learned that every moment of silence was precious. She tugged her letter from Gaara’s hand gingerly, half afraid it might rip.  
  
“And you let her.” Sasori sneered because of _course_ Gaara with his newfangled morals would be easy prey.  
  
“I wasn’t aware we were keeping her as a slave.” Gaara shot back after handing out the letters, his arms crossed defensively.  
  
Temari scowled and pointed a finger in her cousin’s direction. “Lets just be honest it's probably your fault anyways I mean with your stupid Machiavellian schemes and cloak and dagger flirting. Just be normal for once! I mean did you really think letting her catch another woman going down on you was suddenly going to make her realize how great you were?” For someone so smart he was so dumb.  
  
“I was simply proving a point but If she’d bothered to pay attention she would have noticed some similarities.” Of course the shade of that woman’s eyes had been all wrong and he was sure the magenta hue of her hair wasn’t natural. “And if she hadn’t run off she would have seen them being dismissed.” Never to be seen by him again. He’d only been out to prove there was only one type of person he was interested in but it sailed right over Sakura’s head.  
  
“Yea I’m sure she could get a good eyeful of those similarities when their head was buried in your crotch.” Temari rolled her eyes. “Great plan, genius. Now what are you going to do if Shikadai catches a fever and dies?!”  
  
“Oh, don’t put that sort of bad juju out into the air.” Chiyo tsked.  
  
“Maybe it's because _you_ keep calling her over infant sneezes.” Sasori glared back.  
  
Ebizō covered his scoff with a loud slurp of tea. ‘Pot meet kettle.’  
  
Shikamaru sighed feeling like he was the only one left with any sense in the room, which was odd because Sasori was usually on par or above his intellect. “Have you considered, oh I don’t know...reading the letters to see if she gives a reason why before you all start pointing fingers?”   
  
Kankurō frowned at his envelope. “Why is mine all busted open?”  
  
“That was me. After I read mine I got curious.” Gaara shrugged delicately. “But upon reading yours I started to feel bad about the invasion of privacy and decided not to continue.” Also there was nothing of real note contained within and he figured the rest were similar in nature.  
  
A quick glance over the letter told Kankurō that Gaara probably found the subject matter to be boring. ‘It’s basically so long and thanks for the fun times.’ There were a few anecdotes along with some assurances he could call _almost_ at any time--but preferably during the waking hours.  
  
All eyes turned to Sasori as he read over his own.  
  
 _Sasori,_  
  
 _I really struggled with what to write to you, there is probably no one who I can think of that has been as oddly charming and as...bothersome as you have been in the time that we’ve known one another. I might actually even miss your cutting wit...well, at least when it's not aimed at me. I’m definitely going to miss breakfast though. Thank you for everything._  
  
 _All the best,_  
 _Sakura._  
  
 _PS:  
_ _There is nothing wrong with you physically. It’s your head that's the problem._  
  
“There is nothing here that I didn’t already know.” He scowled and turned to Temari who, after reading her own letter had become rather pale. “What does yours say?”  
  
What It said was that it was basically her fault. ‘But not in a negative way or anything.’ No, Sakura was thankful that Temari had reminded her that time was slipping by and had given her the last push she needed to pursue other passions; having a family and kids of her own. Something that given the pace and frequency of her work with them was impossible. ‘And that was partially on purpose.’ _Especially_ on Sasori’s part but every single one of them was of similar mind that Sakura marrying into the family was preferable and they took great pains at making sure she had as little time as possible to meet with people outside of them. ‘Except _now_ we’re completely without a Sakura.’ And she felt awful. In a way they'd robbed Sakura of her most valuable asset; time.  
  
They were all guilty. ‘But mostly Sasori.’ she comforted herself. “It is definitely your fault.” she reiterated, thrusting the letter in his direction. “If you had just stopped playing games…”  
  
Shikamaru who had been lazily reading over his wife’s shoulder snickered because it was so damn typical of women.  
  
“All she had to do was ask. I am perfectly willing to fulfill these requirements. What exactly does she think I’ve been doing these last three years, being nice for the sake of being nice?” Sasori scoffed--because honestly that _never_ happened and _never_ would. He’d changed his house around to suit her tastes, came up with ridiculous reasons to see her, cooked for her and went as far as to install and learn to use that stupid coffee machine all _for_ Sakura and she _still_ didn’t notice. ‘Not to mention the gifts.’ It was obvious to everyone but her and she was the only one that mattered.

  
“..What does it say?” Gaara’s nonexistent eyebrows were raised.  
  
“She wants to have a family, we're preventing that--my words not hers.” Temari clarified, because the tone of the letter hadn’t been as stringent or cold as that, It was thankful and hopeful which just made her feel all the worse.  
  
“It's called baby fever for a reason because just like a damn cold it's contagious.” The only thing that saved Shikamaru from catching an elbow to the ribs was the fact that his son was strapped across his chest but the withering glare his wife sent him gave him the distinct feeling he’d be stuck on the uncomfortable couch that night. “Troublesome.”  
  
“You had to have known this was coming,” Sasori accused, narrowing his eyes on Temari. “Women talk about everything.”  
  
“Well not this!” The blond threw her hands into the air angrily. “If anything since you know so much how come you didn’t notice? Guess you’re not so infallible after all!” she stuck the knife in and twisted it.  
  
Sasori turned to his grandmother. “Die.” The lack of shock everyone displayed was a testament to how often he’d suggested that. “Or at the very least fake your death and she’ll come running back.” Although the real deal wouldn’t be too bad a turn of events either. “Problem solved.” Otherwise he was going to have to go track her down which wouldn’t be too hard but he much preferred that she return on her own recognizance.  
  
“I think you’re forgetting some things in between that.” Ebizō quipped. “Like apologizing and confessing.” the second was inevitable...the first was improbable. Sasori didn’t apologize.  
  
“And as amusing as that would be,” Chiyo began to say, thumbing through her mahjong tiles. “I’m afraid I’ll have to go with _no_. You don’t fix one problem by creating another, that's terribly messy my boy.” she clicked her tongue. “No, no I’m afraid you’ll have to solve this one on your own. Shouldn’t be too hard and I thoroughly hope for your success.” The more great grandchildren the better in her opinion and she did so adore Sakura. ‘He’s always the most human around her.’  
  
One thing was for sure, this was not how Sasori had intended things to go and he abhorred it when plans went awry.  
  
Somewhere in Konohagakure where she was laying low Sakura found herself sneezing up a storm with an awful chill going down her back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and he’s not sorry at all. 
> 
> The problem with playing mind games is that you occasionally get tangled up in the threads you spin and the results are often not what you wanted. 
> 
> The nice thing about short chapters is that they are faster to write.


	3. Floréal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thistle be a good thyme to get him out of her mind.

Sakura’s father had outdone himself in the landscaping department--which was to be expected considering his career in botany. 

‘But one might say he’s taken things too far.’ Sakura thought, eyeing a rather vibrant pink flamingo that had been spiked into the ground among a dizzying array of different colored tulips. “I don’t like you.” she told the lawn ornament bluntly, finding that it sounded an awful lot like Sasori when she said it. 

The slamming of the porch door being flung open was not enough to save her from the tight embrace she found herself swept in. It didn’t matter if she was 5 or not-30 her dad still seemed like a giant. “You should have called, we would have picked you up!” The man complained, his hair less pink than it was the year before.

“Technically you are picking me up.” Sakura giggled. It felt like forever since she’d been home but she made it back at least once a year. 

“Yes and he’ll be crying about his back later, just wait and see.” Mebuki chided, her embrace was less vigorous but she took the time to scrutinize her daughter’s face, turning it this way and that way. “All that time in the desert--I keep expecting you to come home with a tan or at least an awful sunburn.” People with fair hair and skin just didn’t do well under the sun and she noted that there was a new, faint constellation of freckles dotting her child’s cheek bones but what really bothered her were the dark smudges beneath her green eyes.

“We’ve been over this, I invested a small fortune in sunscreen while I was over there.” And Sakura was not joking about that, it had been one of her biggest expenditures. After a few cases of painful, peeling skin she’d quickly learnt to cover up and thus her skin remained a pale peachy tone. She was still terribly puzzled about how Sasori and his entire family remained as pasty as they did. 

_Especially_ Sasori who looked one shade away from competing with Nosferatu. ‘Probably a byproduct of him lurking in the shadows in an attempt to scare school children...no, he’s not that discerning about who he terrifies, anyone will do.’ Sakura had once been so frightened to find him standing behind her in a poorly lit area of the main palace she’d pulled him into a shoulder throw. 

Of course that had not gone as intended because Sasori was savvy enough to bring her down with him and that had been awkward to say the least considering she was ranting about ghosts in the midst of being stuck under him. ‘Not to mention feeling like all my martial arts training from 10 to 20 amounted to a fat lot of _nothing_.’ In her defense the palace was rumored to be haunted and well, if there was one thing she was afraid of....

 _“Afraid of ghosts? Don’t worry Little Girl, if you stay close they’ll probably leave you alone.”_

‘Why am I remembering something like that right now?’ Sakura wondered because she should have been doing her very best to _not_ remember that she’d been shivering underneath him at the time. “Huh?” she blinked, realizing that her dad was saying something. 

Kizashi paused in his laughter. “I said; Long _thyme_ no see!” His wife groaned miserably at having to hear the pun a second time. 

Normally Sakura would have been just as disgruntled to hear her father’s plant puns but after so long away from home she found them almost as amusing as she did when she was five. “Have I mentioned how _frond_ I am of you both?” She teased, promising herself that she would try and limit it to one pun alone...at least for the day. Sakura couldn’t make any promises about the next one. 

“There must be something wrong with you if you’re engaging with that nonsense.” Mebuki complained. 

“Mebuki, my love...We’re _mint_ to be but your dislike of my puns is _unbeleafable_!” 

“Okay now you’re just going too far.” Sakura told her father, dainty nose in the air as she glanced in her mother’s direction. “ _Romaine_ calm I will _root_ out the problem.” There was a loud slapping noise as she and her father shared a high-five. “Okay I think I have it all out of my Sys-s _tem_.” 

Despite the torture Mebuki smiled. “You certainly are your father’s daughter...but you look awful. Go take a nap and then explain why you suddenly quit your job to come home. I mean you’re almost 30!” 

Sakura flinched at the mention of age. “Righto…” That was sure to be a fun conversation--but she had a reprieve and she would take it. ‘Maybe the right words to explain it will come as I try to sleep.” She could hope at least.

“We’ll bring up your bags so head on in.” Kizashi relented in his puns to walk towards the rental car parked out by the curb. 

The path through the house and up to her room was a familiar one, nothing had really changed besides new flooring and furniture. Her shoes were kicked off at the door and she ambled up the staircase to the room she’d spent her earliest years in. It was the same as she’d left it as for university down to the peppermint green walls and the Mortal Kombat poster adorning the space above her desk. ‘I was such a pro back in the day.’ Many an enemy had been left weeping over their controller, mostly Naruto.

“Almost exactly the same.” Sakura said, looking down at her twin bed. “There was never a cat before.” 

Citrine eyes stared back just as curiously, white tail flickering about in a lazy sashay. 

Mebuki dropped one of the travel bags on the floor. “I should have mentioned we got a cat, she likes to sleep in here during the day.” 

“As long as she doesn’t claw my face off while I sleep she can stay.” Sakura didn’t have anything against cats besides the one time she had to get inoculated for rabies after a rescue attempt gone very, very wrong. 

“She would never! Yūrei is a darling.” Kizashi chimed, the last two bags in hand. 

Everything else Sakura owned was safely in storage or on a delivery truck chugging its way through Suna to Konoha at a snail's pace. ‘They’ll take at least 3 days.’ she hoped they were being handled with care. ‘It took _forever_ to get those camellia to bloom indoors...’ 

Yūrei’s eyes followed her, head craning to keep Sakura in sight as the woman eased herself onto the bed, making sure to keep at least a foot of space between her and the cat even if it meant she was dangerously close to falling off the bed in the process. 

Her parents were gone, the door left ajar in case the cat wanted an escape. Sakura was half asleep when she felt the cool snuffling of a nose at her ear. “I don’t have a lot of vanity but please, not the face.” With her luck she was expecting a face full of claws or teeth but the cat curled against her throat and shoulder purring like a motor. Blinking at the ceiling in surprise, Sakura acknowledged that her parents were right. “This was my bed first but I’ll share with you.” The, cat as it turned out was more than pleasant. “And I like you better than the flamingo.” 

In the end Sakura didn’t think much on what to tell her parents but when pressed for details she explained the gist well enough. 

“Perfectly understandable.” Mebuki said, she only had one child and thus only one chance for grandchildren. Sakura _was_ prone to fits of emotion that made her react without thinking things completely through but what she heard did _not_ sound like one of those cases. “Still...You’re terrible at doing nothing. You like working, I give it 3 months before you start going crazy…”

Kizashi gasped, egg sliding off his toast. “Mebuki! I find your lack of faith to be disturbing, Why, I give her _six months_!” 

“Gee, thanks Dad.” Sakura replied dryly, running her fingers along Yūrei’s back. The white Angora was draped sleepily across her lap, living the good life. “This is not a permanent state, I fully intend to go back to work at some point.” she was already in the midst of forming a more concrete plan of how the next year or so was meant to go and was fully committed to sticking with it. ‘But I am going to spend the rest of this week reading books and looking at house listings.’ And sleeping. 

She was going to take a page out of the cat’s book and learn to sleep anywhere and everywhere. 

By the fourth day of her return Sakura was stretched out on a lawn chair glaring across the garden. ‘I swear they are multiplying before my very eyes.’ In addition to the one out front there was an entire flock of neon colored flamingos in the backyard. She felt judged. “You monstrosities won’t be taking over the world on _my_ watch.” mostly because she had nothing better to do. 

She was itching to leave the house but Temari wasn’t due to return to Suna for a few more days and Sakura didn’t want to risk that fallout happening in public. “I already feel bad enough running off like I did, I don’t need your looks of scorn.” She was talking to plastic lawn ornaments. She would call Temari in a few days and apologize but until then she'd just feel like dirt. 

Sakura’s parents were right to say that she wasn’t very good at rest and relaxation, at least not for prolonged periods of time. That was probably part of the reason why she hadn’t left Suna earlier than she did, it had been a bit like crack for a workaholic--always something to do and someone to see. She was an overachieving know-it-all. ‘Well, depending on who you ask.’ Sasori oscillated between thinking she knew nothing-at-all and being impressed when it turned out that she _did_ know something. ‘Why the hell does everything keep coming back to him?’ 

Introspection on that front would have to wait, her phone was ringing. Before Sakura even got the words “Haruno speaking.” all the way out Ino’s voice exploded through her ear. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming home? We’re best friends! We talk at the very least _every_ Friday and you _never_ mentioned it.” 

“That's because you would have told everyone and I’m in _hiding_!” Sakura wondered how she found out in the first place. “Did my mom tell you?” 

“No, but it was pretty obvious with the boxes of sugary cereal your dad kept trying to sneak into the cart.” 

“He is a good man.” Sakura sniffed. “Bless his soul and may he rest in peace…or pieces.” Because her mom was going to kill him. Mebuki ran her kitchen like a maximum security prison, no processed foods allowed to the great misery of the two junk food enthusiasts she was related to. Her mom was scary about cooking and that pretty much explained why Sakura never learnt to do much of it on her own. 

“What did you do that you have to hide?” It sounded like Sai, muffled in the background was speaking. “You didn’t murder Sasori did you? He’s been one of my biggest patrons over the last few years…” 

“No, rest assured the pestilence lives on.” Sakura sneered at one bright red flamingo that sat adjacent to its normal-pink hued companion. Not only was it oddly colored but the two of them were posed to look as if they were _canoodling_ and that just made them _twice_ as bad.

There was a scuffling on the other line as they fought over the phone. Ino won judging by the pained gasp that sounded suspiciously like her husband. “Does this have to do with that thing we talked about before?” Ino wouldn’t consider herself a very good friend if she hadn’t picked up on Sakura’s increasing malcontent over the months preceding her 29th birthday. She just hadn't thought the breaking point was so near at hand. ‘Just as well in my opinion. Temari can have Shikamaru. She can’t have Shikamaru _and_ Sakura!” That just wouldn’t be fair. 

The melancholic sigh Sakura gave meant she was on target. “The three of us should go cherry blossom viewing...It’ll be great to catch up and you’ve missed getting to see them for a few years in a row.” Neither the capital Suna nor the outlying lands of Kaze had the pink blossomed trees. “Sai and I will bring everything, you just bring yourself.” 

They set the date for the coming Friday, when Sakura was sure that Temari was on her way back to Suna rather than strolling around the hometown she and Shikamaru shared. 

By midafternoon of the appointed day Sakura was sneezing up a storm and wondering if the chill she was feeling came from the cool spring air, an oncoming illness or something darker. ‘It could just be allergies.’ Though she’d never suffered from them before. ‘And it would just be _ludicrous_ if I suddenly became allergic to my own namesake.’ she watched the petals that shared her coloring drift about as she walked through the park.

The trees were approaching the end of their flowering season, more petals on the ground than on them. ‘A bit like me.’ Sakura found that line of thinking to be terribly depressing for such a picturesque day. 

“There you are! It’s about time.” Ino huffed, popping up from the blanket she’d been sitting on to get a look at her longtime friend. Sakura’s hair had gotten longer than the last time she saw her, enough to fluff just below her shoulders, forelocks still parted in the middle to expose a decent track of forehead. The blond paused to balk at the sunglasses framing the familiar face. 

Ino knew fashion, she knew brands and prices, it was her _thing_. Sakura could name all the bones in the body from the smallest to the largest and Ino could tell what was high end or low end, last year's run or the current one and authentic from fake in a heartbeat. She also knew that Sakura was frugal about clothes and accessories, _almost_ ignorant about such things. The only exception was that she had a fondness for shoes and even then there was a limit she just would _not pass_. ‘And she sure as shit would not buy _herself_ a pair of glasses that cost like...half the amount of my car in college.’ 

Between the gold frames and rosé colored glasses, even down to the little green and white filigree pattern on the sides it seemed like they were made for her. “Those are nice.” Ino began prodding for more information. “Where’d you get them?”

Sakura shrugged as she gave the awaiting Sai the hug he’d opened his arms for. “I dunno, Sasori bought them after he got sick of me squinting at the sun while I was driving him around. He made me pull over and came back with them later.” and basically threw them in her lap scowling all the while. 

After getting a good look at them himself, Sai thumbed his chin thoughtfully because much like his wife he was fashion minded even though Sakura claimed midriff shirts on men were a disaster. “They almost make you look nice, Hag...but I have to ask did you fuck him before or after that?” 

Sakura gasped and sputtered, skin turning red. “What?! Neither, never! Why would you ask that?” She promptly pushed them up off her nose to glare at him without barriers. 

“Well beca-Ack!” 

Ino wrangled him by the collar as she whispered against his ear. “If you tell her how much those things cost she’ll have an aneurysm and _die_!” Sakura wasn’t allowed to die on her. 

Sai blinked and nodded slowly. ‘That is true…’ which meant that he had to come up with a new explanation. “It's just that I read once the more time you spend with a person the more intimate you become. It sounds like you spent a lot of time with him.” 

“Well _intimate_ doesn’t necessitate sleeping together.” Sakura considered the way the words sounded out loud. It sounded like she and Sasori were close. ‘I mean we weren’t strangers. You get to know a person over five years.’ but then again it was Sasori and she wasn’t sure anyone could truly ever know him. 

“Oh!” Upon her hug with Ino, Sakura realized something quickly. ‘Her face is fuller and her clothes are looser.’ and her stomach was not as flat as it had once been. “And you yelled at me for keeping secrets.” Sakura pouted momentarily. “Congratulations.” She was either right or a complete jerk, but Ino beamed and she knew that she’d gotten it in one. “How far along?”

“A little over 13 weeks.” Sai smiled, the rare and honest sort he was still working on. “She wanted you to be the first to know. Besides me of course.” 

Sakura poked a finger at Ino’s middle “Aww, it's the size of a lemon!” 

“It looks more like an alien, which is better then when it looked like a shrimp.” Sai quipped, flipping through the pregnancy guide that had become his recent companion. 

Sakura sucked some air through her teeth when Ino took the book and whacked him over the head with it. “Because I like you I have some helpful advice. You might want to take a vow of silence for the next 6 months or so.” Maybe longer. 

Rubbing his aching noggin Sai nodded. “Duly noted. Your frequent helpful advice is exactly why you should be our child’s Godmother.” The next part was harder, he wasn’t good at the emotional, interpersonal aspect but he had been practicing. “And because you are our best and most _responsible_ friend.” It was Ino’s hope that the responsible part would balance out Naruto as the Godfather. “You helped teach me how to reach and be reached by others...I don’t know if I’ll be a good father but I know I’ll be a better one because I knew you.” He hadn’t meant to make anyone cry, much less two people. “Did I do it wrong?” 

“No! It was fine and _Yes_ , Of course I will be. That's like one of the _nicest_ things you’ve ever said to me!” Sakura scrubbed at her eyes. 

“Are you also pregnant?” Sai questioned, vow of silence broken. He was getting used to Ino’s hormonal imbalances 

“Part of the problem is that she _isn’t_.” Ino hiccupped through her tears. She was taking much longer to stop crying then Sakura had. “How are our kids going to grow up together if she doesn’t have any?! And Sakura and I have had a contract since we were like ten that our kids were going to get married…” 

“You can’t engage our unborn child to Sakura’s hypothetical ones.” Sai pointed out. “That's not even a legally binding contract.”

“That really depends on the country.” Sakura joked. 

Ino wished they would take things more seriously. “When is the last time you even had sex?” 

The snickering Sakura had been engaged in stopped and a long period of silence followed. “Uhh…” She had not slept with many people, could count them on one hand and have fingers left over but for the life of her she couldn't remember with clarity the last time it happened. “I don’t know. It had to be at least two or three years ago.” There was a guy she’d dated and then he had been posted to some far flung border of Kaze within the 3rd month, such was military life. ‘After that my workload just skyrocketed.’ 

The fact that Sakura no longer considered Sai as a guy and was perfectly comfortable discussing such details in front of and _with_ him would later come back to bite her in the ass. “But I have a plan! If I don’t meet anyone within a year I’m going an alternative route.” 

“Isn’t a year a bit of a tight timeline?” The painter was frowning. He’d known Ino for sometime before they got married and found that a year was an awfully short time to get to know someone. “And what alternative route?” 

Ino held out a box full of sandwiches, the crusts painstakingly removed. “Sakura’s parents only knew one another six months before they got married and they’ve been together over 30 years.” It also took them a very long time just to have _one_ child. ‘So of course Sakura is freaking out.’ 

“If by the end of the year there is no husband in sight, there is always the sperm bank.” Sakura nibbled at her sandwich far too cheerfully in Sai’s opinion. “I mean I have a very limited window of time If I want to have more than one kid with space in-between.” 

Sai choked, eyes fractionally wider then before. “How many are you looking to have?” because as it was _one_ seemed like a lot to him.

“Three. I got to thinking that as an only child I was really lonely until I met Ino, and then Naruto and Sasuke.” Sakura paused and poked him between the eyes. “And then you. Temari, Kankuro and Gaara...they had a rough start at first but look how close they are now. So I think three is a good number….and also studies show larger families are happier.” She had been doing her research thoroughly. 

“Well consider us fully on board the Lets-Get-Sakura-Laid-And-Knocked-Up train.” Ino waggled her eyebrows gleefully.

A blush washed over Sakura’s face. “If you say it like that it sounds _way_ worse than it actually is!” 

“Isn’t that exactly how it is?” Sai ended up having a half eaten sandwich shoved into his mouth.

The day crept into evening and later that night Sai was thinking over the events of the day, laying in bed as Ino crunched her way through a pack of crackers--the crumbs grated against his ankle as they migrated around but he knew better than to complain. “Beautiful,” He began addressing his wife by the pet name.

“Hm?” Ino took a sip of strawberry milk to wash the dryness away. 

“You and Sakura have similar tastes, in music, in clothes, you even liked the same boy once…”

“Sai if this is you trying to suggest a threesome I will lop off your dick so help me…” She wanted Sakura to have kids close in age to her own, she _didn’t_ want them to share the same father.

“No, No!” Sai made an uncharacteristically disgusted noise at the thought. “She’s like my sister at this point, But do you share a similar taste in men?

“We like them pretty.” Ino cuddled across his chest, batting her eyes. “And Awkward.” The last bit was more of a joke. 

“Sasori and I are similar.” Sai pointed out. “We are both good looking, socially awkward and artistically inclined.” And emotionally retarded if he were being less kind. Ino was tapping a finger against his collarbone in silent thought. 

“That's all true.” Ino hesitated in agreeing. 

“And he bought her an expensive gift for no reason…and its _Sasori_.” And now that Sai was really thinking about it he was pretty sure the older man had only bought any of his art because Sakura had been the one to introduce them not to mention the fact that he seemed to prefer the pieces that Sakura commented on favorably. 

“You think they would be a good couple?” Most of what Sakura said to Ino about Sasori was a mix of awe and frustration. 

“I think that he likes her and that you make me a better, more full person--If I’m with you I don’t feel empty and If you and Sakura are _similar_ and Sasori and I are _alike_ …” Sai trailed off distracted by the press of her lips against his forehead. “What did I do?” 

Ino patted his cheek fondly. “Nothing, just being your usual odd and insightful self.” She sighed. “Just one problem. I don’t want Suna to have her.” 

As harmonious as things were going at the Yamanaka household it was decidedly less so for Sakura. Her phone rang in the middle of the night, buzzing its way right off the bedside table. The thump of it hitting the floor the final nail in her peaceful slumber’s coffin. “Waaah…” She was slumped almost upside down, hand groping around under her bed for the annoying sound. “ ‘Runo.” The first syllable of her name got lost as she blindly accepted the call. 

“ _You_.” 

The word was said in the rude way and he sounded…’pissed.’ Sakura thought and squinted at the light of her phone, eyes aching as she confirmed the number. “Sasori, It's like---12 am.” Why couldn’t he just sleep like a normal person?

“If I can’t sleep neither can you.” 

‘Spiteful.’ Sakura scowled into the black shadows of her room. “There is nothing wrong with you, got to bed.” 

“There is _plenty_ wrong with me.”  
  
“Well yes! I’ve been telling you that _forever_ , but not _physically_. You sleep just fine any other time you want to.” 

“Sakura,” That had her attention because he seemed to use her name when he wanted to make a very specific point about something. “I’m going to say this nicely and only _once_. Come back.” It didn’t even sound particularly nice, it sounded like an order and if she thought that was bad what followed was even worse. “I have a very specific set of skills you wouldn’t want used against you--If you don’t come back on your own I will look for you, I will pursue you--” he never got to finish which was a shame because it might have evolved from something creepy into something somewhat resembling romantic. 

“Okay, I have heard just about enough of that you Ginger-haired devilspawn! I’m not in Suna, I don’t work for your family anymore and **I**. **Want**. **To**. **Sleep**.” Sakura made sure to accentuate each word by smacking her phone against the floor angrily. “ I want to get married and have kids, I want my dad’s flamingo’s to burn in a fire! And I really wish I understood your problem!” Of course by that point she’d thoroughly destroyed the phone and her confession about the flamingo’s and everything else were heard by Yūrei only who frankly, didn’t give a damn.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are so many puns I am almost ashamed. Almost. 
> 
> I, for one have nothing against flamingo’s other than not wanting them in my own yard. I have a flamingo cutting board somewhere though. 
> 
> So as I was inserting Yūrei’s cameo into this thing I came to the sudden realization that this world basically IS an AU of an AU lmao. It's basically Turning Crimson but completely less crapsack and funnier by 10x. Sakura’s parents aren’t dead, she never had the PTSD inducing experience of the Uchiha massacre and thinking she saw a dead person walking which drove her to pursue law enforcement rather than medical studies. 
> 
> Sasori’s not a serial killer...I mean he’s a killer but it's more or less sanctioned by his government and he doesn’t get all weird about it...Probably...  
> It blew my mind when I realized it. 
> 
> So there is that...
> 
> Sasori got cut off before he could transition from threatening to oddly sweet. Which is really just plain rude. He's a lot better at buying or making things to show how he feels then he is at outright saying it lmao. 
> 
> I will do stealth edits tomorrow on anything I missed while proof reading, chapter ended up much longer then intended.


	4. The Natural Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakura has to contend with a mishap, Sasori continues his plotting. 
> 
> Sai just wants everyone to come out winners and get what they want.

Sakura began to feel like she might have made a mistake the other night. ‘I smashed my phone...’ Which meant she had to buy a new one while simultaneously struggling to remember how to use the old corded landline in her mother’s kitchen.  
  
‘I feel like I am back in the early 90’s or something.’ The curly cord was long enough to stretch across the kitchen and play jump rope on. ‘Which Ino and I used to do.’ It wasn’t like her parents couldn’t afford to replace it; she made sure to send plenty of money home mostly to apologize for the terror of a preteen she’d been. ‘And in an attempt to stave off karma for when I had my own kids.’ Sakura was pretty sure no amount of universe karma-bribing would prevent that though.  
  
There was also the fact that she might have gone too far with calling Sasori a devilspawn. ‘He’s a busy man, I’m sure it’ll be fine. First things first; find out where my plants are.’ The shipping company was late and she had no way of knowing if they were watering her leafy friends. It took her a few tries to remember the number but she eventually got it.  
  
The phone rang only once before someone picked up and it wasn’t a machine.  
  
“Hello, thank you for using K&S shipping, how may we be of service? Un.”  
  
It was probably because she hadn’t had any coffee yet but Sakura completely missed the telling speech impediment. “I want to check on the status of a shipment, it was supposed to be here a few days ago.” Sakura amused herself by plucking at the bouncy cord. ‘You know it's actually not that bad.’ Maybe it was nostalgia.  
  
“Would that shipment happen to include one Camellia tree in a celadon pot, several Gardenias, a stupid looking cactus in a frog shaped container, a really fat Aloe Vera and a bunch of her ugly fern friends? There are some others but good grief woman. Un.”  
  
“Hey!” Sakura objected angrily. “Veronica is not fat! She’s just very...bountiful.” It occurred to her then that she knew the voice that she was hearing. “Deidara, why the hell are you picking up for the shipping company?” And how did he know it was her calling?  
  
“Aww, she named it. Un. Certainly would be a shame if _something_ happened to it, right Sasori-no-danna?”  
  
“Yes, it would be terrible if _someone_ were to pour salt water all over them.” The secondary voice intoned blandly, crystal clear in quality.  
  
Sakura gasped in horror. “You wouldn’t!” The salinity in the soil could ruin them.  
  
“Ah, but...” Sasori crooned and Sakura could almost imagine the look on his face. Thin, well shaped lips curled in a cutting smile. “Wouldn't that be _exactly_ what devilspawn would do?”  
  
‘Fuck, fuck, fuck.’ Sakura thought, staring into her mother’s china cabinet, the one with the dishes she had never _once_ been allowed to use, or even _seen_ being used by anyone. “I don’t suppose there is anything I can do to change your mind?” She laughed nervously. ‘I spent too many years on those plants and Veronica saved my skin more times than I can count at the expense of her own limbs…’ It would just be _wrong_ to abandon her.  
  
She could hear Sasori humming over the line thoughtfully.  
  
“Oh, darling girl...I can think of quite a few things you could do to earn yourself back into my good graces but first things first, I’m going to give you an address and you’re _going_ to show up; today, 1 o’clock sharp. Just you.”  
  
“Wait a second, what’s going to be there? What are you up to...” Sakura fretted as she got to thinking about all the things that Sasori _could_ be up too. ‘I mean there was that time he kicked Deidara down a flight of stairs.’ Although she didn’t feel _too_ bad about that event considering the blonde was currently conspiring against her. ‘And the time that he put pure capsaicin in Kankuro’s tea.’ That had been awful and her spice intolerant taste buds just couldn’t handle that kind of abuse.  
  
“Now, half the fun is in _not_ knowing.” Sasori tsked. “Pay attention, I’ll only say it once.” The information was given after Sakura had the chance to find a piece of paper and a pen, then the line went dead, dial tone sounding obnoxiously through her head.   
  
Sakura’s eye twitched just a bit. “What is this, a hostage negotiation?!” she was an inch away from smacking the receiver into the wall and then remembered it wasn’t _her_ phone. “Right.” She took a breath, checked the time on the thin, charm-like watch at her wrist and thought about how it was another item received from the completely insane man she just got off the phone with. ‘It's not my fault he has really good taste.’ she had at least a few hours yet to go. Plenty of time to get ready after she made her next phone call.  
  
Unfortunately Temari didn’t pick up and Sakura ended up leaving a message. ‘Probably didn’t recognize the number.’ She thought, turning the kitchen inside out in an effort to find something with caffeine in it only to be left empty handed. "Damn it.” Her day was already going to hell.  
  
If it were any other person on the planet they might have been visibly surprised to see Sasori standing in their art gallery but to Sai it was simply an inevitability based on what he had already pieced together. Although he had not expected it to include a loud mouth blonde who looked like he was being dragged through hell.  
  
“This place is boring, un. It’s got no… _pizzaz_.” His hands and fingers wiggled to illustrate the point.  
  
“No one asked you to come along.” In fact Sasori was pretty sure he’d been expressly clear that he didn’t _want_ Deidara around at all once they’d finished the business of intercepting Sakura’s phone call. The man reminded him of a dog, no matter how many times he got kicked he always came back. “And I _hate_ dogs.’ but that wasn’t to say that the asylum seeker didn’t have his uses. ‘He is completely _worthless_ when it comes to art though.’ Deidara thought art was the disheveled remains of an explosion and there was no one in their right mind that wanted something like that in their living room.  
  
“Hello.” Sai greeted. “Sakura is not here.” There was no point in referring to her by nickname when she was not around to hear it.  
  
“Why would you think I’m looking for her?” Sasori narrowed his eyes fractionally.  
  
“Because you like her.”  
  
“See?” Sasori held out a hand, gesturing in the curator’s direction. “ _Obvious_.” Even an imbecile like Sai could get it through their head but there was one minor quibble he had with the wording. “It’s not a matter of mere _liking_.” he loved her, adored her...and he _greatly_ enjoyed teasing her. ‘Which, I suppose is _why_ we are where we are.’  
  
Deidara’s singular, visible eye rolled. “Un.” a lot of time could have been saved if Sasori just said it to _Sakura_ but the last time he’d pointed that out he’d gotten kicked down the palace steps. Of course that had been right after Sasori had let that woman go down on him and he’d been highly agitated in the aftermath of a failed ploy.  
  
Sakura was his friend, one of his best friends. ‘And she is certainly Ino’s…and Sasori is a very good customer and very rich.’ There were other admirable qualities as well, the redhead came from a prestigious family, was logical, methodical and though he was very straight Sai thought him to be leagues better looking than Sakura’s usual fare. ‘Sakura wants a husband and children, Sasori wants Sakura. Ino wants what Sakura wants--more or less, and I want everyone to have what they want.’ Therefore he did not consider what he said next to be a breach of trust. “She wants to be married.”  
  
“So I’ve heard.” Sasori’s arms found themselves crossed bitterly because _really_ that could have been done already. “And children.” That part could have been _well_ underway by now too.  
  
“Yes and if the first of those things doesn’t present itself she’s prepared to do it without a partner.” And while Sai had no doubt that Sakura could manage on her own, his books all said that two parent households were ideal. ‘Especially if you’re planning on having three.’  
  
“Explain.”  
  
“Oh my god un, it's like listening to two computers talk.” Deidara could hardly stand it.  
  
Sai was happy to oblige and answered what had not exactly been a request in the first place. “By the end of the year if she doesn’t have a prospective husband Sakura intends to use a sperm donor.”  
  
“She wants some _stranger_ to provide half their genetics?” Scandalized. That was the word for how Sasori sounded, aghast even. ‘To sully her body with someone else's offspring…’ he scoffed, it was absolutely _ridiculous_. There was only one person in the world she would be reproducing with. ‘And it’s only appropriate that it be _me_.’ Because he’d never even wanted to have children before Sakura and now he only wanted to have them _with_ her.  
  
“At the end of the year, _if_ there’s no prospective husband.” Sai repeated the important information. “Also she hasn’t been intimate in the last few years.” he wondered if that was important.  
  
“I don’t even _need_ a year.” As far as Sasori was concerned they’d already done the dating stage, so what if he’d never explicitly said it. ‘She lived in my house more than her own, ate the food that I made, wore the things I bought her and of course she hasn’t slept with anyone since that one loser.’ he’d made sure of that by keeping her busy and at his side.  
  
If it were anyone else saying that, Deidara might have pointed out that Sasori had been playing around for three out of five years trying to get Sakura to see how he felt without saying it and had completely failed. In fact he might have even laughed but it was _Sasori_ and when he got serious there wasn’t anything he couldn’t do. ‘The man could probably commit murder with a 6 inch piece of floss, un.’ maybe even a smaller piece and that said nothing about the other preternatural abilities he swore the man possessed. “What are you gonna do, un?”  
  
“Whatever I have to do.” There was no way he would share his plans with a loud mouth like Deidara so Sasori turned back to perusing the wares before him “But first, my current dwelling is dreadfully bare...” he pointed to the series of flowers painted on pale gold silk. “This one.” it was something that she would like and it was not displeasing to his own eyes, from the spill of silvery-white wisteria to the bursting red peonies.  
  
“Ugh. It's so girly, un.” Deidara threw his hands up in the air. “Why not those cool bug sculptures over there?”  
  
“I’m not buying to suit your tastes. To do that one would just have to pick up a handful of rocks off the street.” With that said, he turned to Sai to discuss arrangements, it did after all have to be on the premises before one.  
  
Sakura would later find herself scowling up at a rather palatial villa on the outskirts of _her_ hometown, which meant he was intending to stay longer than a few days. Sasori was not known for slumming it if he didn’t have to; _Life is far too short,_ he’d say--And he didn’t like hotels where people were constantly coming and going-- _it's a security risk_ he’d say. ‘So of course he’d just buy or rent himself a place like the damn golden spoon he is.’  
  
That wasn’t to say Sasori hadn’t worked to make a large share of the money he had in his possession--he was at the forefront of several breakthrough medicines that he’d formulated himself but he had also been born naturally wealthy. ‘The man’s life is basically a cross between Crazy Rich Asians and some spy-action film.’ Or something like that.  
  
The house and its surroundings were rather picturesque, classical even. High sweeping arches, alabaster pillars and red roofed. Modern houses were too square--and she meant that literally, for Sasori’s tastes. ‘He said they looked like modular cubes.’ and Sakura agreed. The front door was wide and made of heavy, intricately carved wood and was probably one of the things that had attracted his eye.  
  
It was an affront to her that he probably hadn’t been in town as long as she was and already had a place. ‘If house hunting is this hard for me, finding a husband is...and just where does a person even go looking for a spouse?’ The door she’d been about to knock on flew open and her balled fist would have caught the person answering it in the chest. Fortunately Sasori had very good reflexes and caught her hand before it could bruise his ribs.  
  
“You!” Sakura seethed, baring her teeth. “Give me my plants!” he wasn’t letting go of her which was probably for the best since she might try hitting him on purpose next. What that didn’t explain was _why_ he was currently turning her hand over in his own, thumb sliding over the pulse of her wrist. Her heart started to do that weird thing it usually did when it came to Sasori.  
  
“Right on time.” It was exactly 1 o’clock as read by the watch he’d given her.  
  
“You did threaten to destroy my property, which you _stole_.” Sakura found herself being pulled into the house, heavy door slamming shut behind her. “I didn’t really have a choice.” He still had her by the hand.  
  
“I didn’t _steal_ them.” It was more like he confiscated them. “They were detained by border customs under the concern they might have been an invasive species. They usually burn them you know.” Although they had only ended up impounded thanks to a well placed call to begin with. ‘But that's neither here nor there.’  
  
Now that she was inside the house, Sakura noted that it was still mostly empty, the foyer and the living room barely furnished. ‘Although I see he still had time to do some decorating.’ she eyed the series of painted flowers appreciatively. “Oh, so you just _happened_ to swoop in and save them?” She’d finally gotten control of her hand again and it was hitched to her hip, her foot tapping against the marble floor. “And then threaten to destroy their soil salinity?”  
  
“What I said was; it would be a _shame_ if someone were to do that.” Sasori followed the curve of her hip appreciatively with his eyes, the dark green shorts she wore contrasted against well toned thighs. “Lunch is getting cold.” He said, strolling further into the house.  
  
Lunch would explain why his house smelled amazing. “Sasori, explain! You know that _thing_ where you use words to tell someone important information.” Sakura paced after him. “For starters what are you up to?” Because as it was she was left to assume everything was a big scheming attempt at payback for hanging up on him the night before. ‘This is a man who cooks bacon without a shirt on, who stands unflinchingly in the face of scolding hot oil popping all over his arms and chest.’ There was no telling what he could do.  
  
They bypassed the formal dining room and went straight to the kitchen where more intimate seating was arranged. “Yes, important information…” Sasori pulled a chair out from the table and waited, looking into the seat and back to Sakura expectantly.   
  
Sakura looked back at him and then the chair suspiciously, but eventually conceded and sat because to _not_ eat would be a waste of food and breakfast was not the only meal of the day Sasori excelled at preparing.  
  
Although Sakura was going to be very careful with anything she put in her mouth just in case he was being spiteful and snuck something spicy into it. Before her sat a dish of grilled pork served over broken rice and mixed vegetables . “Again I ask, _what_ are you up to?” her question did not stop her from cutting off a tiny piece of meat and placing it in her mouth.  
  
The pork had been cooked with honey and soy sauce. Sakura fought against the pleased noise that lingered on her tongue. He’d reached across the table to pour something from a pitcher into her cup, an action she watched with a cautious gaze.   
  
“Little Girl, It isn’t poisoned.” Sasori chided when he saw the look, rolling his sepia eyes when she looked back at him doubtfully, to prove a point he took a drink from the glass and set it back at her side.  
  
It didn’t matter how good the food was or that her cup was filled with a faintly sweet, fruit-infused tea that Sakura found she really liked. “I want my plants, I want answers. You can’t just confiscate and hold my items, that's illegal.”  
  
“Technically, _no_.” Sasori replied, chin propped into the palm of his hand. “Maybe in a Democracy where the individual has rights but alas those items were retrieved before they crossed from Wind into Fire and thus they were under the control of an absolute monarchy.” A condescending smirk graced his face.  
  
Sakura gasped because while _yes_ she had seen some rather questionable things take place in Suna they were always for the greater good--at least to her knowledge, what he had just admitted to was...“That is an out right abuse of power!” she hadn’t even done anything wrong besides wanting to get on with her life. The chopsticks she was holding bit into her hand. “You tyrant!”  
  
“Absolute power and all that.” Sasori responded, utterly unbothered by the proclamation. It was true. “Finish your lunch, you won’t get dessert if you aren’t good.” his eyelids dropped low, as he peered through his lashes. “And it's _very_ good.” especially for a sugar addict like he knew her to be. Seeing the stubborn streak welling behind her eyes he continued on. “Or your plants.”  
  
As it turned out he was not lying about dessert. A raspberry soufflé dusted with powdered sugar and a well crafted latte alongside it. Apparently he’d equipped his new kitchen much the same as his old one. “You don’t even like Coffee, so why own a machine to make espresso?” Sakura huffed, watching as he dropped two spoons of sugar into the contents before adding the steamed milk. When it was set before her, Sakura realized he’d poured it to look like a rosette and it was, as with most things Sasori did, _impressive_.  
  
‘If his companies ever tank and his country banishes him at least Sasori can always find work at a job he’ll despise like 75% of the normal population.’ she giggled over the rim of her cup because Sasori as a barista was one of those things that was as likely to happen as Tonton flying. ‘And the clientele would all be assassins or bodyguards for hire.’ Or other people of unscrupulous means because that would be the only prayer they had of surviving Sasori.  
  
“I don’t,” Sasori sighed pleasantly, it’d been some time since he’d heard that sound from her and it felt like coming home at last. “and It’s never been for _me_.”  
  
That gave Sakura pause, cup poised a few inches from her lips. Without a doubt Sasori was impatient and very often selfish, when and _if_ he did something for someone else it was with the expectation that he would eventually come to collect on the so-called good deed. ‘And yet…’ He’d never once thrown it into her face that he’d gone out of his way for her. “Are you planning on explaining anything to me? Like why you’re in Konoha.”  
  
“Business, the important sort.” Sasori said, leaning against the island counter, forgoing his own dessert to watch Sakura enjoy hers. “And my family would like to apologize…” It was easier to say it that way then to include himself. “They were short sighted when it came to your needs.”  
  
Sakura almost let the cup slip out of her hands. “Did Temari tell you?”  
  
“She feels awful about it, especially with the way that you left.” Sasori was not above jabbing a metaphorical needle at her about that, because he was still cross about the whole situation. ‘Leaving for a trip only to return to an empty house.’ He snorted disdainfully because really it was just cruel of her.  
  
“I tried to call her today but I broke my phone because of _you--_ stop calling me at odd hours Sasori! I left a message from the house phone...” Sakura rambled miserably, latte down to the last drop. The soufflé was long gone but the taste of raspberries remained through it all.  
  
“What a shame, I suppose you’ll have to go and get that replaced tomorrow.” It really was her own fault for letting her temper get the better of her but all it did was provide him with more opportunities in the end. “But what I really want to tell you is that I fully support your endeavors and am happy to help in _any_ way that I can.”  
  
Surprise filtered over her features. “Well, what about that rather...uh, intense phone call the other night?” Sakura asked, because he certainly had not sounded happy with her then.  
  
“I was upset.” Sasori pushed away from the counter, collecting an errant strand of pink hair that was curled against the back of her neck. “We’ve known one another for five years, you and I have been particularly close for three of them.” the back of his knuckles skimmed across the sensitive strip of exposed skin leading from the junction of her shoulder to her ear lobe. “I consider you to be more than some employee.” he batted at a pearl earring with a finger. “I don’t give gifts to just anyone.”  
  
The fact of the matter was that Sasori considered _romance_ and courting to be more like Nat Geo Wild then he did it to be along the lines of Pride and Prejudice. The stronger and more successful a male was the more desirable. Birds with attractive plumage and excellent nest building skills were noticeable and in demand. ‘And there is that one species where the male impales prey on thorns and sharp sprigs.’ And the more there were the more pursued he was by the females.  
  
Sadly those methods or their more human equivalents did not work on Sakura. He’d tried. A large, well decorated and adorned house, fantastic homemade food and a myriad of trinkets just went right over her head and as annoying as it was he also found it to be charming in its own brand of oddity. Sakura wasn’t stupid but for whatever reason she was completely blind when it came to how other people felt about her.  
  
“I guess not.” Sakura craned her neck to look up at him, confusion on her face “But why then?” Her hand caught his, fingers entwined and intermingled in the process.  
  
“...” Whatever words Sasori thought to say, to explain what she made him feel always felt too small--actions were what mattered as far as he was concerned and he didn’t feel any different on the subject today then he did yesterday. He was a man with a plan and this time he was going to execute it perfectly. ‘I’ll say the words…’ All in good time. “Because I admired you.” The statement was ambiguous, it could mean platonic or otherwise and he knew it. “And speaking of gifts…” he walked away for a moment leaving Sakura to her thoughts.  
  
‘Admires me huh…?’ it was a little flattering when said by someone as accomplished as Sasori was. The fact that he touched her so freely didn’t enter her mind because he’d been doing things like that for some time, a hand at her waist, a thumb along her wrist. It all depended on circumstances. That wasn’t to say Sakura was unaffected every time it happened. Even now her skin felt hot, her stomach insisting on doing things that had nothing to do with what she’d eaten.   
  
Sasori came back to drop a large and rather hefty aloe-plant into her hands. “Just as promised.”  
  
“What about the rest of them?” As far as Sakura could tell Veronica looked just fine. ‘Better even.’ Someone had cleaned up her container.  
  
“You know what they say about patience.” An admittedly contrary statement coming from an impatient man like him but Sasori simply pinched the curve of her cheek fondly. “And I fully intend for you to have _everything_ you want in good time.”  
  
  


  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there.  
> ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿  
> Praise me pls. I was raised as a child who did not get much attention therefore I seek it from internet peers. /  
> Jk.  
> I was the youngest, I got all the attention. 
> 
> Sakura: -Staring off into the distance forlorn and forever alone.- Why can’t I find a man…  
> Sasori: -doing everything animals in the wild do to attract a mate besides just taking one- LOOK AT ME.
> 
> The only person Sasori is willing to wait for is Sakura but its starting to lose its novelty now that he’s got a time crunch going on.
> 
> This recommendation has almost nothing to do with the story other than me believing Sasori to be vain AF but you should listen to “The Creation of Man” from The Scarlet Pimpernel (I am a Musical fan haha…) anyways it's a really tongue and cheek song about men needing to look good. (they are actually trying to throw off suspicion about them being vigilantes--”look we’re too vain and stupid to be fighters!”)
> 
> You should listen to the whole soundtrack tbh, it's good.


	5. Protective Instincts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sakura contends with the frustrations that comes with the mundane, Sai and Sasori successfully fulfill the first of many plots and two people take a stroll down memory lane.

Sakura wouldn’t have been able to fit all the plants her former patient had pilfered into her rental car in the first place and certainly not the potted trees. Sasori had said he would give them all back, a statement which she believed. ‘I just never know what strings will come attached...’ She thought, scrolling through house listings a day later.  
  
After Sasori had handed over Veronica he’d asked a few questions that to _most_ would have seemed like innocent small talk, only Sasori didn’t do _simple_ conversational speaking. Every question always had a larger goal in mind even if one couldn’t discern it at the time.  
  
One of those questions had been about where she was living, or rather planning to live. ‘Beats me.’ The lid of her laptop slapped down as Sakura heaved a sigh of frustration, scowling at the ceiling of her parent’s living room. Finding a place she liked enough to take a physical tour of was proving to be a challenge--it was hard trying to plan around children and a potential husband who didn’t exist yet. ‘And my arm hurts.’ The anesthetic was wearing off from where her birth-control implant had been removed. ‘That woman was a butcher.’ she made a hissing noise at the band-aid.  
  
It was often said that doctors made the very worst patients and while Sakura often complained that Sasori was a prime example of that adage, she was in fact, not that much better--simply a different sort of _difficult_.  
  
“It probably wouldn’t hurt so bad if you hadn’t been wriggling around.” Ino mumbled, eyes fixed upon some drama playing on the TV. ‘Oh good grief, that girl is so oblivious!’ It’d been three seasons already and she _still_ didn’t realize how the male lead felt about her.  
  
“She was holding that scalpel like a cleaver!” Sakura cried, completely aghast as she covered her arm to shield it from some imaginary foe.  
  
Ino finally tore her eyes away from the screen, another episode ended and the lead still blissfully unaware. “You almost kicked her in the face during the pelvic exam.” And before that Sakura had been downright snooty about where the OBGYN had graduated. “I’m pretty sure the both of us have been _banned_ from that practice so thanks for that.” It was going to be a nightmare finding a new one. “You’d better find a doctor you can stand if you plan on getting pregnant anytime soon.” And for the sake of her overall health.  
  
Sakura was the type who put off seeing another doctor for as long as she could, attested to by the fact that she’d only been to see one _twice_ during her five year tenure in Suna. ‘I bet if she lost a toe she’d try and sew it back on all by herself too.’ Ino thought in exasperation.  
  
“Her hands were cold, it was reflex!” Sakura really hadn’t meant to twitch so violently but it happened without thought. ‘Probably nerves after she destroyed my arm.’ It was only supposed to be a tiny nick but it looked more like an inch long.  
  
Ino humphed and took a sip of her lemon water, it wasn’t as bad as it had been in earlier weeks but every now and then she still had moments of nausea and sought ways to stave it off. “And for that matter you better find a man who will hold your hand through it all too because you just about crushed mine!” One would have thought Sakura was going through full fledged labor and not a simple, routine check up.  
  
Before Sakura could open her mouth to offer another rebuttal, which would have been something along the lines of how she hadn’t _actually_ asked to hold Ino’s hand to begin with the phone in the kitchen rang.  
  
It stopped on the second ring meaning someone had answered it or the caller had given up. “Anyways...I guess what I should be saying is thank you.” Because even if she hadn’t asked, Ino had gone with her and silently slipped her hand into her own. Sakura didn’t have a phobia of doctors or anything that came with them--that would be _ridiculous_ given her profession. It was simply that she had a healthy mistrust of strangers poking and prodding her body, even if it _was_ necessary.   
  
“Yes well, you know what they say; nothing says close friends like going to the gynecologist together.” Ino joked as she queued up the next episode. ‘Maybe this will be the one where those two finally get together…’ It was her day off, Sai was busy being weird and artistic so she was going to binge watch till her eyes were red.  
  
Sakura was pretty sure _no one_ actually said that.  
  
“Sakura, that girl Tanuki from Wind country is calling for you!” Kizashi called from the kitchen.  
  
There was a brief moment of confusion. “Tan--no!” she tore across the living room floor and into the kitchen. Ino, not wanting to be left out of what could very well provide even _more_ entertainment than the series she was watching followed a few paces behind, the show forgotten in the background.  
  
The kitchen smelled like cookies and Sakura decided to revisit that later as she took the phone from her father’s hand. “It’s Temari,” she corrected as she placed the receiver against her ear, sighing as Ino smushed her face against her cheek in an effort to better listen in. “Hey! I broke my phone, sorry if you’ve been trying to call it.”  
  
Temari sighed from her end of the line. “I miss you so much!” And it had only been a week and a half already but she didn’t exactly have a large amount of friends to begin with--certainly none she saw on a day to day basis like she had Sakura. “And you don’t have to apologize, not for the phone or anything else. The only person who should say sorry is me…” In the background Shikadai could be heard making the fidgety, grunting noises Sakura had learned to associate with feeding time.  
  
“That's not necessary. You never did anything wrong by me. I worked like I did because It's how I’m geared...for better or worse. I’m the one who slunk off without saying anything like a garbage friend.” Sakura could hear Ino sniffling and mumbling about how sweet friendship was against the side of her head.  
  
“No, wait listen; it’s very important that I tell you about Sasori…” There was a rather disgusting _squelch_ that followed the name and then Temari’s voice having risen higher went on a completely different tangent; “Damn it! Shikamaru _your_ son spit up on me _again_!” And then the phone sounded like it was being thumped around in a dryer, followed by silence.  
  
“ _My_ child would _never_ spit up on me.” Ino said proudly, knowing it for a fact as she wandered towards the cookies Mebuki was setting out.  
  
“Ino, it really does not work like that.” Sakura forewarned her absently, tapping a finger against her chin as she mulled over Temari’s words, placing the receiver back into its cradle. “Was she trying to warn me Sasori was in town?” Because she already knew that.  
  
There was no reply because the other woman’s mouth was already full, not that she would have answered the query anyways because Ino was neither interested in helping Sasori nor impeding him. ‘Okay maybe I wanna throw a wrench in things a little bit…’ The pregnant woman thought, nibbling at the edge of her cookie. There was no harm in her opinion with presenting Sakura with _other_ options as far as she was concerned.  
  
Trying to emulate Ino’s snacking only garnered Sakura getting her hand slapped away by her mother. “These are for my book club.” Mebuki chided, laying out several more cookies fresh from the oven on the cooling rack. Truthfully she _had_ secreted some away for her daughter. ‘But only after she finishes dinner.’ As was proper.  
  
Sakura gasped and pointed a finger at Ino who had more than a handful of the sweets and was going to town on them like she’d been starving her whole life. “Explain why she gets to eat them then!”  
  
“She’s pregnant, I can’t say no.” Mebuki shrugged. “When you’re expecting I’ll let you eat whatever you want too.”  
  
Ino giggled triumphantly from her seat at the table.  
  
“I’m working on it! What do you want me to do, jump the next guy I meet on the street just so I can have a cookie?” The last part was mumbled under Sakura’s breath, unheard because her father was still in the kitchen sedately sipping his tea and she didn’t want him to choke.  
  
“You haven’t even been on a single date since you’ve been back.” Ino pointed out, brushing some crumbs off her shirt.  
  
“I spent a week in hiding, it's only been like 3 days since I returned to society…” Or maybe it was four, she had a hard time remembering. “Besides, telling someone I’m currently living with my parents probably doesn’t sell mature and capable and where the hell do I even start?” Basically all her friends were married. ‘And to people they knew for years, some of them met in university, some knew one another since childhood or got introduced to one another through other friends.’ there were a handful of people she could think of that were unattached and that was by their own choice.  
  
Sakura was in her opinion, passed the age of meeting some in a club or a bar. ‘And frankly that environment doesn’t scream husband material to me anyways…’ So that left her at a loss on where to proceed.  
  
“Where most people in the digital age hook up; Online.” Ino supplied oh so helpfully. “And through the connections of their friends--that hasn’t changed.” She crossed her arms. “I _do_ happen to know people you _don’t._ ” she had a few names off the top of her head she could throw down.  
  
That caught his attention and Kizashi gasped, eyes wide and horrified. “Not online! That's how you get murdered!” If he had pearls he would have clutched them, instead his knuckles turned white as they gripped his tea cup.  
  
“Daddy, I’m sure I will be fine even if I _do_ meet a stranger from the internet.” Sakura patted him on the shoulder, she’d said it to comfort him but her word choice didn’t seem to instill him with much confidence.  
  
“Taser, pepper spray!” The fact that his daughter had several years of martial arts training under her belt had flown right out the window at the thought of scary internet men being anywhere near her. “Call every 20 minutes! Don’t send anyone _any_ money!” Kizashi demanded, tea cup clacking against the table. He was by nature a jovial man but the one thing that could rile him up was the thought of his baby being taken advantage of by faceless entities. ’Well, that and the neighbor's dog…’ That damn dog kept digging holes in his yard and peeing on his Lemon Balm.  
  
“I’d like to think our daughter is smart enough not to get catfished.” Mebuki turned off the oven. “But pepper spray never hurt anyone.”  
  
“I’m pretty sure that's the entire purpose of pepper spray; to hurt someone.” Sakura snorted and rolled her eyes discreetly.  
  
“You know what I meant!” Mebuki briefly considered reducing the amount of cookies she’d stipend away for the smart commentary.  
  
“I think we need to focus on something very important,” Ino began quite seriously. “The logistics. Sakura destroyed her phone, which means before we can get started on _anything_ we’d better get that settled first.” she shooed a hand at the rosette. “Go get the device you murdered, we’ll replace it today.”  
  
There was a frustrated groan as Sakura threw her hands towards the ceiling, conceding to the logic of Ino’s suggestion even when she hated it. “What is this the day of mundane torture?!” Doctors visits, phone shopping, next thing she knew she’d be stuck at Konoha’s Department of Transportation having to renew her license. The thought of it had her stomping from the room and up the steps.  
  
It was while she was gone that Ino’s own phone began to jingle some cheerful pop-song, signifying that it was her husband calling. Never one to be separated from her phone for even a moment the blonde answered immediately. “Well if it isn’t my third favorite person in the world.” She cooed.  
  
“...Have I moved down a level?” Sai wondered if he’d done something wrong recently after all.  
  
“Technically yes, but not because you messed up. it's just that the baby ranks number one now, which makes Sakura second and you third.” Ino explained as she ticked off fingers.  
  
“I see, that makes sense.” Sai was nodding his head, though his wife couldn’t see it. Truthfully he wasn’t sure _why_ their unborn child ranked first considering it hadn’t done anything other than exist, make her sick in the morning and likely to cry over just about everything but he was _not_ about to argue over the ranks lest he slide further down the rung. ‘I don’t want to be her fifth favorite.’ That would be bad.  
  
Unseen to Ino was the man sitting across from Sai holding a stack of prewritten flashcards up for the benefit of her husband, a man who was impatiently rolling his wrist in an effort to move the conversation along. “Ah yes.” Sai cleared his throat as he focused on the task at hand. “I have finished working and because I,” He squinted there because the cards were rather far away before continuing on. ‘...miss you. I want to take you to dinner, are you and Sakura finished for the day?” if his voice sounded more robotic than usual his wife took no notice. ‘I find that this method is rather useful.’ he wondered why he hadn’t considered writing flashcards for himself.  
  
Ino sniffled over the line. “You’re so sweet, I’m moving you up to second! I’m going with Sakura to replace her phone, but I’m free after.” she rubbed at the tears gathering at the corner of her eye.  
  
“Text me where and I will come meet you.” Sai gave a thumbs up to Sasori, feeling rather successful in his endeavor of helping everyone get what they wanted thus far.  
  
None the wiser, Ino sent him the location shortly after she departed with a rather surly Sakura who was still upset that she didn’t get any cookies and that her arm had been mangled earlier in the day. Towards the tail end of purchasing her phone, while the information was being transferred from one device to the other Sai came through the door.  
  
“Hag.” he greeted, hand placed on her shoulder in greeting only to be startled by the shrieking noise she made, rearing out of her seat as the phone employee looked on with huge eyes. Moving quickly the Ink artist had a chair placed in between himself and her just in case she tried lunging for his throat.  
  
“Sai!” Ino gasped, shaking her head. “How could you...that's her bad arm! I’m going to have to move you back down to third...” it was disappointing.  
  
“I was not aware that she had a bad arm.” Sai blinked, nearly hunched behind the piece of plastic furniture as he watched Sakura like one might regard a lion preparing to pounce. In his experience Sakura was very adept at using _both_ arms. The phantom memory of the time he and Naruto had both been slapped by her, left hand for him and the right for the other man came to mind. “My apologies.”  
  
Sakura took a very deep breath, eyes clenched shut as she slid back into her seat. The skin around her arm felt like it was throbbing painfully in time with her pulse. ‘I’ll ice it as soon as I leave here.’ that would probably take some of the sting away and help with the bruising. “It’s fine, you didn’t know.”  
  
The poised tension bled out of Sai’s shoulders when he realized retribution was not coming. “What exactly happened?”  
  
There was a twitch at the corner of Sakura’s eye at the question. “Malpractice, that's what!”  
  
Ino rolled her blue eyes and shook her head. “She jerked away from a sharp implement and now she’s reaping the rewards, don’t get her started or we’ll be here all night and I’m hungry!” The last part came out as a whine. “Where are we going?”  
  
‘Oh...we didn’t go over where I was supposed to take her.’ Sai’s eyes darted about as he thought, peering out through the glass windows and across the street. “I figured perhaps we should be adventurous tonight and try…German.” he finished once his gaze alighted on an establishment that provided food, lips coiling into a triumphant smile.  
  
“Huh.” Ino said because that was not an answer she was expecting and couldn’t exactly fake enthusiasm for the option. ‘But...he did come up with this all on his own and that’s rather rare.’ So she wouldn’t complain about the venue and would instead let him have his small victory. “Alright then, if you need help writing any profiles be sure to call, Forehead!”  
  
Sakura waved her good hand in farewell, pouting down at the status bars that told her how much more of her stored data there was left to transfer. ‘This is so slow.’  
  
“Profiles for what?” Sai asked when the door to the store had shut behind them, Ino’s hand interlaced with his own as he walked them across the street keeping his attention hyper focused on their surroundings just in case a vehicle came from nowhere and he had to shove her to safety.  
  
“Dating sites.”  
  
Sai stopped right in the middle of the crosswalk. “...That seems highly dangerous.” He did not approve even if Sakura could deal out rather vicious beatings.  
  
“I find it very interesting that _both_ the men who have heard that today have said essentially the same thing.” Ino hmphed and tugged him along before the lights changed and some car decided to run them over.  
  
“That's because we fundamentally know that other men can be wolves.” Sai explained, it was an instinctual recognition about other men that even someone like _him_ could feel. Standing there holding the heavy wooden door open he could see that the inside of the restaurant was rather kitschy and hoped that the food was better.  
  
“And yet you’re somehow okay with Sasori being with her?” Ino strolled her way towards the hostess, greeting her and rambling about the number of their party. “Are you saying he’s not a wolf?”  
  
Sai considered the question for a moment as he stared down at the menu before him. “He’s certainly something,” He admitted. “But I don’t know if a _wolf_ is the right word for it.” He wasn’t sure what sort of creature Sasori was, or even himself in all honesty. “Maybe a Chimera would be a better term for him...” Bits and pieces of different animals strung together to create something new. “But I think what I do know is that Sakura’s the _one_ person safe from his bite even if she does step on his tail.”  
  
The noise Ino made in reply was one she typically reserved for something she found cute or romantic. “When you say things like that I _almost_ want to help him.” She pouted. “But then I remember that he’s creepy, comes from Wind and hates just about everything fun.” And he stole Sakura’s plants _and_ he was probably a psychopath of some sort.  
  
Feeling a faint twinge that he might have been going against his wife’s wishes in an attempt to grant a different one of her desires left Sai feeling a bit conflicted. “Are you...completely opposed to them?” If she was, did he have to stop helping Sasori? ‘That could put a dent in my annual earnings.’ And with a child on the way he just didn’t feel comfortable risking it.  
  
“Of course not. What I want most is Sakura’s _happiness_.” If Sasori could grant that, then in Ino’s opinion she had nothing more to say even if it meant her best friend would move away again. “And If he’s like you say, I’m sure he’ll find a way. In the meantime there is no reason why alternative matches can’t be explored...preferably ones who don’t live in a sandpit that has already stolen one friend.” She grumbled and attempted to pronounce one of the foreign words on the menu.  
  
Turning the words over in his head, Sai wondered if it would be possible to get Sasori and Sakura to split their time between the two capital cities of their origins. ‘It would certainly go a long way in smoothing things over with Ino if she figures out that I’ve been aiding him.’ The fact that she wasn’t completely dead set against the match up was a comfort and he too turned to figuring out what he’d be eating that night.  
  
Across the street Sakura’s new phone was finally finished the agonizing set-up process and she’d apparently missed quite a few text messages and phone calls in her brief time off the grid. ‘I will just...deal with those later.’ several of them were from Naruto alone and before she tackled _that_ she desperately needed sugar, or caffeine. ‘Both would be better.’ And some ice. With that in mind she exited the store to begin the next leg of her journey.  
  
Not even a block away she caught sight of an unmistakable face sitting at one of the wrought iron tables belonging to the local café. Sakura had to do a double take, paused with one foot on the threshold of the entrance as she gawked. It was most definitely Sasori she saw sitting outside and reading a book. “Plant thief!” she called and made a detour, dropping her bag on the table. “When am I going to get the rest?”  
  
‘I’ll have to have a talk with her later about being predictable.’ It was fine for Sasori to figure out her movements and patterns but if it were someone with less... _wholesome_ designs, Sakura's methods of operation could prove detrimental to her safety. “Hello to you too.” he said, glancing over the edge of the page he had not been reading. He only managed to outpace her estimated arrival a few moments beforehand, just enough time to sit down and look like he’d been there longer than he actually had. “And again, _you’re welcome_ for saving them.”  
  
There was no mistaking the incredulous look Sakura fixed him with as anything other than disbelief on his insistence that he was a savior rather than a captor, which was simply a credit to her intellect and knowledge of his way of working. “Now that I think about it I don’t believe you ever thanked me for giving you that aloe vera you so adore…Veronica, was it?”  
  
Sakura’s lips parted in shock. “T-thank you?! Sasori, I don’t know how you remember that incident going down but I was 6 months into my first year, you looked me in the eyes and said ‘ _Your face disgusts me._ ’ dropped it into my lap and left.” She’d been wearing a pastel green skirt that day and the dirt had ruined it forever.  
  
“Yes and directly afterwards you stopped letting yourself burn in the sun every other weekend. So again, _You’re welcome_.” Sasori shut the book, setting it on the table to give her a clearer indication that she had his full attention. “Although I do recall it being much smaller back then, I’m impressed with how…” He paused to remember that she’d gotten downright ornery at Deidara’s insult to the succulent's size before going on. “Ample it’s become since then.”  
  
Sakura practically glowed at the praise. “Yea, I did do a pretty good job despite having no prior experience with those sorts of plants.” She had worried for a while that she might over water the poor thing, used to plants with a greater thirst than cacti and succulents. When Sasori had dropped Veronica on her years ago, the aloe had been no taller than a foot and now it was just over three feet. ‘Could be a record.’ She thought.  
  
At the time it had been something some random business associate had foisted onto him as a pointless gift and Sasori had decided to throw it in the bin as soon as he got a chance. He’d been on his way to do it when he’d caught sight of Sakura’s reddened face and tossed it into her lap instead. It hadn’t meant anything at the time but now he was thankful for the rare split decision he’d made.

The fact that Sakura had kept it and tended to it for almost five years, that she was so attached to something he’d given her without any forethought at the time was utterly charming in his eyes. “You might as well just sit.” his hand was at her wrist but he paused in pulling her towards the seat next to him when a flinch worked its way across her face. He wasn’t a practicing doctor but he still had the training and his own keen intuition to tell him something wasn't right.   
  
Sakura shivered at the feel of his fingers trailing up her arm, feather light as they pushed the sleeve of her shirt higher up to uncover the band-aid that lay below. She had actually not looked at herself in the last few hours and was surprised to see the purple bruising spread out beneath the bandage.  
  
“Girl, what exactly happened here?” Sasori scowled as though personally offended by what he was seeing, fingers picking at the edge of the band-aid gingerly.   
  
“Wait! hey don--gah!” It was less so pain and more like shock that had her crying out because just like that the adhesive was gone. “You didn’t have to pull it off!”  
  
“Unfortunately I don’t have x-ray vision and thus I couldn’t see under it.” Sasori replied blandly, tilting her arm to get a better look at the congealed gash, it wasn’t quite dry enough to be scab yet. “Well?”  
  
“Depends on who you ask. Ino says I was _twitchy_ all through my appointment and that I jerked when she went to make her incision.” Which may have had _some_ truth to it. “I say that the way she was holding the scalpel made me nervous.” Which was also the truth in Sakura’s opinion. “And then she had to like, thread the stupid implant out.” It was honestly a mess in the end and the bruising really didn’t surprise her the more she thought about it.  
  
“I see.” Sasori mumbled, following the brief few seconds it took to piece together the things that Sakura hadn’t explicitly said, like what sort of doctor she’d been seeing and what the removal likely concerned--apparently she was _very_ serious about getting started on her plans as soon as possible. “You know it wouldn’t take much to make sure she never practiced again...” He said at last, looking about as enthused as Sakura had ever seen him and all at the thought of destroying the career of some woman he’d never met and hadn’t done a thing to him personally.  
  
“As unhappy as I am with the events I’m not about to go _that_ far with it. I just won’t be going back to that...uh, practice.” Somehow or another Sakura found herself in the seat next to him, sleeve still tucked up over her shoulder as Sasori studied it.  
  
“You know, I’m very good with a scalpel.” And a knife and needles in general. “I could have removed it for you and I guarantee it would not have looked like this.” To Sasori it might as well have been a hatchet job. His eyes caught sight of the waiter approaching. “You’ve got a first aid kit somewhere, bring it here.” Something in his demeanor made the teen go stiff turn sharply and scurry off, presumably do his bidding. ‘Good.’  
  
“You don’t have a medical license anymore and statements like that are _exactly_ why people think you’re a serial killer.” Sakura supposed the thousand-yard stare and bleak eyes Sasori frequently used to look through people didn’t help much in making them think he _wasn’t_ imagining what their organs would look like outside their body. ‘Like that poor boy he just scared off.’  
  
Sasori wondered what the distinction between killing a series of people and being a serial killer might have been to her because he wasn’t entirely sure he knew the difference most days. ‘I suppose one is in defense of others, self, government and country and the other is just for enjoyment.’ Or something to that effect. “I could get reinstated.” And easily.  
  
“Also you really don’t strike me as the type to adhere to the Hippocratic oath, neither the original nor the modern. So excuse me for not being full of confidence in your code of ethics.” Sakura teased, poking him in the cheek. “I mean, you did _knowingly_ slip Kankurō _'_ what could well have been a poison in the form of pure capsaicin and you seem to _purposely_ forget that you are a member of society with an obligation to _all_ your fellow humans. Not just the few you like, whoever they may be.”  
  
Whatever it was that she had said affected Sasori enough to make him drag his eyes away from her arm, the look on his face lacked both the stoicism and the conceit he seemed so often fixed between and If Sakura were a gambler like her former mentor she’d say he looked as memorized as he did the day Suna managed to get some grisly painting of a woman beheading a man on loan to their museum.  
  
‘But different.’ She swallowed nervously because Sasori had _not_ looked at the painting like it was the only thing in the world that existed or like he was completely off guard for once in his life and he had certainly _not_ been touching it like it was some reverent article as he was currently stroking her arm.  
  
‘Of course he wasn’t _allowed_ to touch it.’ Though Sakura would also bet that if he had the inclination to do so he would have found a way. All in all she was at a complete loss as to why he was making that face at her and petting her flesh in those long, languid strokes. If she said something Sasori probably would have stopped and she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted him to. ‘This cannot be good.’ Sakura thought grimly, realizing that she was becoming so desperate for companionship she was seeing things that were impossible.  
  
“Sakura…”  
  
That certainly had her attention because Sasori hardly _ever_ used her given name. It was probably as rare as hearing him laugh.  
  
It was completely forgotten by her that the sudden break in her companions' comportment had come right _after_ she’d brought up the Hippocratic oath and there was a _very_ good reason for that. If he were to be asked, Sasori could recall with perfect detail the moment he realized that he wasn’t going out of his way to simply get a rise out of Sakura. She was _notoriously_ easy to rile up and it was a complete, unnecessary waste of his time but he found himself doing it day after day.   
  
Three years ago he’d been on the cusp of uncovering a rather insidious group of insurgents that had wormed their way into the palace walls over the course of a few years, seeking to be rid of the entire royal line once and for all. Sasori had dispatched four of the six members over several days and was on the hunt for the last two when he’d heard what sounded like a hammer being slammed against multiple surfaces in Sakura’s primary office.  
  
He’d simply thought at that moment he’d have to impose on her the notion that altering or damaging a historical site in a way that was less than necessary would have to come out of her paycheck when he put a pause in his search.  
  
Sasori had been standing outside the closed door when something hit it so hard the latch must have splintered and it busted open, the prone form of one of the men he’d been looking for spilling out into the hallway beaten face an almost unrecognizable, pulverized mess. Naturally, he’d followed the line of sight into the room and got a good look at Sakura standing over the _second_ man he’d been looking for, a bust of Hippocrates raised high over her head, white marble covered in blood.  
 _  
__‘That is...terribly paradoxical.’ He remembered thinking at the time because what else would one call causing grievous harm to another human being with the likeness of what was regarded as the Father of Medicine, the very same man who had proclaimed doctors should do no harm. So there Sasori stood somewhat stunned to take in the sight of the bruise forming on Sakura’s temple and the split lip she was sporting as she scowled down at the man desperately crawling away on his back._ _  
__  
__“I very, very nicely asked you and your stupid friend to stop planting C-4 in my fucking office and you punched me for it! This is medical room, not a murder zone!” And just like that Sakura had brought the bust down on the man’s knee with a delightful crunch, his head jerking back in a scream as he was likely crippled for life...if he got the fortune of getting to keep breathing by the time everything was said and done._ _  
__  
__“Huh.” Sasori had said and it was by far the most ineloquent he’d ever been since learning to speak. It was in that same moment he realized that he wasn’t merely entertained by Sakura and all her idiosyncrasies, oh no he was disgustingly in love with her and would be until he died. It had been quite a bit to come to terms with at the time but he had carried on business as usual given the circumstances._ _  
__  
__“You’re late.” Sakura had scowled, chest heaving from exertion as she whipped her head away from the man weeping unintelligibly at her feet. “Look at my office!” It was a mess, papers and supplies strewn everywhere, the wires that went to the C-4 stretched across the floor in a tangled mass. “I thought state security was one of your jobs!” There was a gash at the edge of her hairline leaking blood down the side of her face that he hadn’t seen earlier and a faint tremor to be seen in her hands which seemed so pale or were perhaps so tightly grasping in that moment they simply blended into the marble she held._ _  
__  
__The realization that even in her anger and her victory Sakura had been frightened set upon him leaving Sasori feeling far less enthused then he had been in the first few moments he’d caught sight of the events. It very well could have ended differently and that was suddenly not a scenario he wanted to contend with in any form. She was clearly capable in her own right but she was also a woman and that made protective instincts he’d never really acknowledged he had for anyone other than himself well up._ _  
__  
__“It seems that I am.” Sasori admitted, making sure to grab the still conscious man around the ankle of his injured leg as he began to pull his wailing body from the room. “ You’ve done well but I’ll take things from here. Go home.” He would send some staff to clean up and come around to check on her himself when more pressing matters were taken care of, like putting his thoughts in order and carrying out what was in no way shape or form personal vengeance in the guise of security concerns._ _  
_  
“Sasori.” Sakura called from the present, breaking him from the memory. Her brows were furrowed over her eyes, the mark of concern or deep thought.  
  
The nervous, twiggy teen waiter was back with the first aid kit. “You might as well order some coffee and cake while he’s here, you’ll be here a while.” Sasori advised.  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter though this is certainly not the resurrection gift Jesus would have picked lmao.
> 
> If that's not your thing just consider this a gift to you for my inc birthday because I am generous and loving like that.
> 
> Parts of this were totally not written with “You’re Welcome” from Moana in mind. I would like, literally never do that…
> 
> So yea, Sakura beating a man with a bust of Hippocrates was “THE MOMENT” Sasori had an epiphany and for some reason his weird brain decided it was one of the hottest things he ever saw. Don't ask me, I'm not crazy. ¯\\_(ツ)_/
> 
> Posting now Stealth edits tomorrow ‘cause that's how I roll as an Aries.


	6. Shared Tastes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasori continues his ministrations, Sakura has some rather discomforting realizations and a very awkward breakfast.

No matter how Sakura turned it over in her head she was at a loss to what she’d just experienced. ‘Between the arm petting and that look…’ In her eyes Sasori had always been perfectly in control of his expressions. ‘I’ve stitched him up without anesthesia, not a flinch and I’ve seen him pinned under sniper fire and he just looked bored with the whole affair.’ And she’s seen him smile oh-so-falsely to foreign dignitaries only to see the mime drop as soon as their backs were turned. Like he’d put on a mask and simply taken it off in the next breath. 

  
‘Even when I walked in on him with that woman, it didn’t seem like he was…Lost in pleasure or whatever.’ He’d been aware enough to look right at her even sitting on his desk with a woman between his knees. Sakura had more or less been successful in kicking _most_ of the details of that infamous day right out of her head, she _blessedly_ could not recall at all what the woman looked like or any sounds but she did remember how detached Sasori had seemed, neither touching nor looking at his partner. ‘It was like he was just sitting in a meeting or something.’ 

  
Then, His gaze had been drawn to her entrance or maybe it had been the sound of her gasp and the thud of her bag on the floor but whatever tedium Sasori had been experiencing was gone and…Her face was feeling hot at the recollection. ’I have got to stop, what business is it of mine if he’s a exhibitionist or whatever?’ That incident had taken place almost a year ago and she was apparently the _only_ one still thinking about it. ‘Why do I have to be more bothered about it than he is? Sasori was the one with his metaphorical pants down.’ Because he hadn’t even bothered to take them off.  
  
Sakura was grimacing and it had nothing to do with the gash Sasori was pinching together as he applied the miniature butterfly adhesives following a round of antibiotic ointment, though that _was_ what he assumed to be the problem. “I’ve finished,” It was good as he could make it given the current set of tools at his disposal. “Keep it moist to prevent scarring.” Because while she probably didn’t care about such a thing, he _did._ It was almost beyond him how someone could mess up such a simple extraction. ‘How bad could she possibly have been moving around?’ The bruising spread about it didn’t sell the competence of the handler either.  
  
“Thank you Doctor.” The words came without bite. It was hard for Sakura to be angry at him for something that happened over a year ago when Sasori probably wouldn’t even remember it--or _care_. Not when she wasn’t sure why _she_ still cared about it. ‘Beyond the fact that it was mortifying...’ And it was especially hard to hold things against him when he was being…  
  
“You’re welcome, _Doctor_ .” Sasori still held her wrist with one hand, thumb stroking over her pulse periodically. “Sit still.” there was a slight, reflexive tension he could feel stringing through her arm when he went to press a cold pack against it.  
  
’Gentle.’ That was the word Sakura eventually applied to the situation and found the sudden realization to be a bit of a puzzling given what she knew about him. Three years ago she would have expected more mocking and a rougher treatment--if he deigned to touch her at all. Instead he was tending to her wounds and pressing a packet of ice wrapped in _his_ silk handkerchief against her arm. ‘But he’s also never said he admired another _living_ person before.’  
  
Chikamatsu Monzeamon, Hiroshige, Komachi, Litz, Thomas Tallis, Shakespeare, Botticelli and Macchiaveli, to Sakura’s knowledge all the people Sasori ever admired were dead before he was ever born. She glanced at the table, where the book Sasori had set aside soon after she’d caught sight of him rested. “Ars Amatoria?” She was proficient in English and had a more than decent grasp in Latin thanks to all the usage of it in medical terminology but it was a book she hadn’t read even if they had swapped more of them than she could count.  
  
“The Art of Love by Ovid.” Sasori found it amusing how little human courtship had changed over the centuries. Much of what they did could be seen in the behaviors of lesser creatures, his species had simply made things even more lavish and complicated the more they evolved. ‘I suppose I should take comfort that some things under the sun never change.’ The same methods Ovid devoted his prose to were still being employed and he’s more or less followed them.[1]  
  
The title caused Sakura to raise a brow, if it wasn’t scientific in nature Sasori preferred the classics but his current choice seemed to be rather saccharine reading material for _him_ . He was more inclined to Othello, or Doctor Faustus-- _tragedies_ . “Is it any good?”  
  
“That depends on how you define _good_.” There were parts of Ovid’s advice he found to be based in sound logic...’I've favored her and complimented her, given her gifts, I’m currently comforting her in sickness and I’ve _tried_ to make her jealous.’ Sasori _always_ looked presentable and he’s been as gentle as he knows how to be and beyond patient. He was _still_ being patient. ‘When this is all over I sincerely hope she appreciates my labors.’ The courtship of Bower-birds made more sense to him.  
  
Thumb against her radius, Sasori counted the beats in his head and quoted the poet. “... _Gaze in her eyes with eyes confessing fire: you should often have silent words and speaking face. Be the first to snatch the cup that touched her lips and where she drank from, that is where you drink._ ” They’d shared a cup more than once and yet there was no recognition to the words in her expression. “Of course, Ovid, like most men of his age was a philanderer.” And he had the typical archaic views on women one would expect in a man from antiquity.  
  
“You sound like you have a problem with that.” Sakura smiled at the waiter when they finally returned with offerings that could actually be consumed; coffee, a piece cake layered with fruit and cream for her and tea for her companion. ‘He really pulled the short straw when Sasori sat in his section.’   
  
“I’ve never liked to share so it shouldn’t be surprising that I’m inclined towards monogamy,” Whatever affairs he’d had were a simple matter of mechanics without any feelings at play and Sasori took great pains to keep whatever encounters he had concealed. ‘Kankurō could learn a thing or two about _that_ .’ The tabloids had a field day picking the middle sibling’s personal life apart. Realizing that he’d been in love with Sakura had put an end to all that for him and with the exception of his failed attempt to make her jealous he hadn’t been with anyone in those three years. “Particularly of the long-term variety.” The eternal, _never-to-be-parted_ even in death kind.  
  
“I see...?” Her thoughts were turning right back to the thing she didn’t want to think about. ‘Okay, so maybe I’m just curious about who the hell she was, I never saw him with anyone before. I never even heard about him being interested in people like _that_ .’ And that was probably why she’d made up her own theories about... _things_ . ‘But It _sounds_ like he's interested in someone.’  
  
The idea that _even_ Sasori had someone made her chest constrict painfully, she’d practically lived with him and liked to think they were friends but he’d never mentioned anyone. ‘It must be new otherwise someone would have known something about it...’ And if that was the case, what sort of person would they have to be to gain his attention? ‘Or maybe he’s talking theoretically?’ That made more sense to her and it didn’t do weird things to her insides that Sakura was unprepared to consider at present time.  
  
Sasori watched Sakura glance briefly at the hand holding her wrist, but she didn’t twist it away even when he knew it was her dominant hand. “You don’t, but you will.”  
  
Finding the sound of that to be borderline ominous, Sakura squinted at him suspiciously, fork held in her left hand as she poked at her cake a little more ferociously than necessary. “I will, will I?”  
  
“Oh, It's going to become so apparent even _you_ won’t be able to miss it.” Came the cryptic reply. ‘There is only so long that this can go on.’ Of course, Sasori had told himself that only to waylay his intent to come clean for one reason or another. Stubborn pride, enjoyment at her perplexment and circumstances all played their part. Moving on before she took offense to the statement he continued on speaking. “It occurs to me that since you’ve been such a good patient it's only right that you receive a reward.”   
  
Paused with the fork halfway to her mouth, Sakura arched a brow. “What kind of a reward?” When it came to him it could have meant just about anything. A book, a meal, some piece of information he thought she would be interested in. If she did something he particularly approved of maybe some trinket or another. Sometimes they were given to her by Sasori personally, other times Sakura just found them here or there. The first few times that had happened she’d assumed it was by mistake and attempted to return them only to have Sasori scoff and say; _Little Girl, I don't leave things by accident._

  
“One of your plants.”  
  
“What are you just driving them around in your car?” Sakura twisted around in her chair, trying to see if she could catch sight of his vehicle only to feel silly because there was no way for her to tell which of the ones lining the curb were his, or if any of them were.  
  
“Yes and I left them to fry under the sun like a forgetful parent.” Sasori wasn’t sure if the glare he received for the macabre comment was due to the sarcastic allusion or if she honestly thought he was joy riding her plants around. “They’re at my home, safe and well cared for as promised.” He pulled her back to face the table. There were at least another ten minutes of icing to go if he wanted to cut down on any inflammation agitating the wound might have caused.  
  
Sakura perked up once she realized that her plants were fine and she would be reunited with one of them relatively soon. “Do I get to pick?” She had her favorites.  
  
“Which one do you want?”  
  
“The gardenias.”  
  
“No, you’ll have a fern.” The Gardenia’s smelled like her and would be leaving last--or rather never if Sasori had his way. “I’ll drop one off tomorrow.”  
  
Once again the fork paused on its way to Sakura’s mouth. “You say that like you know where I’m staying.”  
  
“You’re staying with your parents and they were listed in your file as emergency contacts. Of course I know the address.” His memory was quite good, even better when it concerned something he considered important. “Eat that already.” Sasori finally released her wrist to push the fork in the direction of Sakura’s mouth. By the time he got around to his tea it was already lukewarm and worthless. He’d have to send it back.  
  
Sakuea hummed around the fork, watching with pity as their waiter was sent scurrying away for fresh tea. “Oh.” She moaned at the taste of the strawberry bursting in her mouth.  
  
It was a noise he’d heard a few times before but it always drew his attention, often wondering if it was at all similar to the one she might make when pleasured. “That good?”  
  
“Mhmm.” Though Sakura could think of a few deserts Sasori had made that she liked better. “Want to try?” She pushed the plate towards him as she went for another forkful. She hadn’t expected him to take that as an invitation to lean over and steal the food right off her fork. A cry of protest withering before it ever made a sound.  
  
Sakura was left gaping, flush creeping along her collarbone and marching up her neck as she caught sight of Sasori thumbing away the bit of cream that clung to the side of his mouth. Somewhat stricken when she caught sight of his tongue darting out to clear the appendage.  
  
Sasori’s sienna colored eyes peeped at her through their heavy veil of lashes, sly and full of delight at the reaction he’d caused. “You’re right, It’s not bad...but I could do better.” He purred.  
  
Sakura nodded her head quickly, wide eyed. ”Uh-huh.” It was slowly becoming clear to her that she might have issues concerning her former patient. ‘No. There are _zero_ problems.’ She tore her eyes away and stuffed another bite of cake into her mouth. Sharing the same fork was no big deal, not after they’d been stuck in a sandstorm drinking from the same water bottle. ‘Okay, so there are _some_ problems. I’m almost...’ Her teeth gnashed at a blueberry. ‘3 decades old, I’m not married, or dating, I’m living with my parents.’ By choice, but _still_ . ‘My eggs are decaying and I have questionable feelings for a former patient.’   
  
Being attracted to Sasori was nothing new, Sakura liked to consider herself a connoisseur of pretty faces and good forms. _New_ was admitting to herself that the reason she was so bothered about walking in on him with a woman was not based in her own embarrassment. ‘Fuck me.’ She thought, downing her tepid coffee.  
  
‘You know what, I am getting way ahead of myself. It's not like I’m in love with him or anything.’ Sakura had learned a very valuable lesson from her brief relationship with Sasuke forever ago. ‘One, don’t chase men who are not expressly interested because odds are they aren’t invested and will be gone when things become too much for them and two, don’t get involved with blue bloods. You’ll always be found lacking.’ And Sasori was more than just some guy from a family with an old name. He was until recently fourth in line for a throne. She wasn’t even sure if the order of succession had changed with Shikadai’s birth.  
  
Sakura was _not_ in love with Sasori. She liked his cooking, she enjoyed looking at him and she didn’t mind being touched by him. ‘I’m impressed with his intellect and okay, yea I do sort of enjoy that he knows everything about everyone.’ Sasori knew secrets that were better than daytime television. His sarcasm was cutting and he was cunning. He was a polymath with graceful hands that claimed his hated his family and didn’t care about his country but still fulfilled his duty to both with finesse that made one question his convictions.  
  
‘But really, what is there to like about him? He’s bossy and manipulative, impatient and rude. He lies to everyone and expects nothing but honesty in return. You never know _what_ he’s thinking, he’s hyper logical and thinks strong emotions are gross.’ Sakura was nothing if not built of strong emotions and he was probably--no _definitely_ a psychopath on some level.  
  
Sasori had a good view of the hasty way the color bled from Sakura’s face, her lips paler by the second. An unsettling feeling began to coil in his chest as he took in how wet her eyes suddenly seemed. He tossed the cold compress to the table, hands cupping her face as he searched for something that would explain why she suddenly looked as if she’d seen a ghost. “Does it hurt?” Her skin was cool to the touch.  
  
“Yes.” Sakura sniffled, wondering why, when all she wanted to think of was the negative attributes Sasori possessed, he had to show the sides of him she _liked_ .  
  
Whatever leniency Sasori had been willing to show Sakura’s former gynecologist ended the moment he saw tears. “I’ll drive you home.”  
  
“No, no. I have a rental and you made that waiter go back and get you more tea, stay and drink it.” The last thing Sakura needed was to see more of him in her current state. Standing, she fished around in her bag and threw down enough money to more than cover whatever they bought. “I’m just going to go home, take some Ibuprofen and go to bed.” And she was going to put all her messy, unwanted feelings back into a box and forget they existed. ‘I’ll start writing those dating profiles too.’   
  
“Sakura.”  
  
She was already a good ten feet away when he said it, but her legs locked at the sound of her name. Her breath hitched as she glanced over her shoulder. ‘Using my name, what a low blow.’  
  
To say that Sasori was confused at her sudden change in demeanor would be an understatement. ’I’m more than proficient at reading body language and interpreting facial expressions but even _I_ can’t read minds.’ And while he assumed she was in pain based on physical cues, it felt like he was missing something. “Don’t forget I’m dropping a plant off tomorrow.”  
  
It would probably be better for her if she told him not to but Sakura didn’t want to end what she loosely defined as a friendship just because her feelings were all stupid. ‘I’m the one with a problem, not him...And I want my plants.’ And she wanted to see him, even though she _didn’t_ want to see him. It was all a mess inside her. “Right, okay.”  
  
Knowing all too well that the smile she gave was a wane and stretched thing, Sakura practically sprinted back to her car and gave her forehead a few good whacks on the steering wheel when she was inside it. “Stupid, Stupid, Stupid.” The horn beeped with each thump. When the self flagellation came to an end she took a deep breath and looked in the mirror. “It's fine, this does not have to be a big deal. We already know that this goes nowhere so I don’t have to feel the inevitable weight of crushing disappointment. I am already starting at zero expectations.” Which was better than having any pretense of hope in her opinion.  
  
The conversation with her reflection continued on uninterrupted as she pushed her mussed hair out of her eyes. “People like Sasuke and Sasori are like...stars, nice to admire from afar but if you get close enough you’ll die from cosmic radiation before you ever have the chance to burn.” Sakura’s been there, done that and was not up for a repeat. It took a really long time for her and Sasuke to coexist in a room together without awkward silences and that was _with_ Naruto as a bridge between them.  
  
Scowling she raised a fist to the ceiling and shook it. “Is an easy and attainable love so much to ask for?!” It was such a simple desire.  
  
Sakura went home, skipped dinner and refused the cookies her mother offered after sensing something was amiss much to Mebuki’s horror. Her daughter had an enviable metabolism and loved to eat. Deciding that fretting all by her lonesome was no fun she wandered into the living room and stared down at the prone form of her husband stretched across the couch.  
  
An issue of Birds and Blooms was draped over his face, pages fluttering as he snored. Poking at the spine of the magazine and the nose that laid beneath it Mebuki carried on. “There is something wrong with _your_ daughter.”  
  
The snoring stuttered as a sleepy reply came mumbled out through the pages. “Is it the junior chemistry set again?”  
  
“Dear, you’re missing about...23 years there. Sakura hasn’t had a junior chemistry set since she was 6, nor has she set anything on fire...” To her knowledge at least. ‘Who knows what she was up to in Suna.’ She flicked the magazine off his face.  
  
“Why is it that when she’s done something wrong she’s _my_ daughter but she is your’s when she’s valedictorian?” Kizashi complained, scrunching his face at the light.  
  
Mebuki crossed her arms with a huff. “I never said she _did_ anything wrong, I said there was something wrong _with_ her.” She sat on his stomach. “She skipped dinner, refused to eat sweets...That always means something.”  
  
“Well, she did have a rough day. You know how she is with other doctors.” His daughter had always been weird about that. She’d walk in like nothing was the matter but as soon as someone pulled so much as a tongue depressor out she got all tense and…’Kicky.’ Kizashi’s knee felt a phantom pain at the thought.  
  
Mebuki was unconvinced by that, Sakura had left the house with Ino more or less fine and then returned home to mope. “Maybe…”  
  
“Well, come what may _lettuce_ do our best to be supportive.”  
  
“Oh my _gourd_ , you’re so funny.” Mebuki mumbled under her breath, the feeling of him laughing beneath her did nothing to make her worry less.  
  
Morning came and Sakura’s cheek was smooshed against the table lethargically, barely lifting even when a plate of french toast was nudged in front of her face enticingly. She picked at the edges of it in silence and hardly ate. Most of her time was spent typing on her phone in what was a stunning imitation of her early teen years and even the coffee that Kizashi kept sliding back and forth across her line of sight wasn’t enough to entice her. “Sakura...would you do your old man a favor and go water the front yard?” When it came to troubles the best way he knew to get Sakura’s mind off them was to give her something else to do.   
  
She glanced up from her phone at last, fingers paused in their previous lightning pace. There was a brief moment of thought and then she sighed, placed the cat lounging in her lap on the floor and then rose to do as she was asked.  
  
Kizashi turned to his wife who was pointedly sipping her tea and leaning against the kitchen counter. “There is something wrong with that child.” He took no offense to the _I-Told-You-So_ look he received in return.  
  
“Mhm.” Mebuki’s reply echoed from the depths of her cup.  
  
Watching the way the water slid down the lush green foliage only to pool within the large, showy heads of the peach colored peonies took Sakura’s mind off her woes, even if it was only a momentary respite. The morning sun chased away whatever mid-spring chill still lingering in Konoha. She barely felt the cold even when she was standing barefoot on the lawn in a pair of thin pajama shorts and a worn T-shirt.  
  
The sound of a car door slamming shut and the following chirp was lost, nothing but background noise to Sakura’s thoughts. ‘It probably wouldn’t hurt to let Ino read those profiles before I submit them…’ On the other hand she was sort of eager to get it over with. Shifting on her heel, she turned to aim the spray at a patch of gladiolus only to squeak and drop the hose before the water hit the man staring at one of the lawn flamingos as if it was his mortal enemy, rabbit’s-Foot fern was tucked under his arm.  
  
Maybe Sakura was more than a little bummed about her epiphany of _most-certainly-not-love_ feelings but there was something deeply entertaining about the stare down taking place before her eyes. “You’re early.” She’d expected to see him at the earliest around noon, not breakfast time.  
  
“This thing is atrocious.” Sasori sneered back at the fuchsia colored flamingo with its beady, dead plastic eyes. “ _Why?”_ Was the point of its existence just to fill the viewer with intense disgust? If so he commended the creator with their success.  
  
“Hey! Don’t insult my dad’s lawn ornament choices...even if they are questionable.” Sakura mumbled the last part almost silently. “At least out loud...or where he might hear it.” She held out her hands expectantly. “I’m sure you have other things to do today so…”  
  
Sasori had a hard time tearing his eyes away from the horror he’d come face to...plastic beak with but he was eventually successful. “Nothing of importance, how is your arm?” She didn’t seem to be in the same pain she’d been the other day. The fern had yet to be handed over and eventually Sakura’s hands moved to rest on her hips.   
  
The front door of her parent’s house slammed open. “Sakura, who are you talking to?” Mebuki stood on the porch, blinking at the well dressed man holding a plant just out of her daughter's reach.  
  
Before Sakura could say _nobody_ and that he was just leaving, the look she saw overtake Sasori’s face made her pause and lose her opportunity to end the coming awkwardness before it began. It was the _same_ face he made when he was about to talk to some dignitary or the rare person he wanted to make a good impression on from the offset just so that he could more easily manipulate them later. 'Or you know...Stab them in the back..’ A pleasant expression, beautiful even. It verged on seeming sweet as his head canted and his lips curved just so.  
  
One could almost call it angelic in nature except for one little problem; it was a _lying_ face. ‘Well, they say Lucifer used to be an angel too.’ Sakura has seen him make that _exact_ expression and spit out venomous words, she’s seen him be as cordial as he was and _still_ have a plan to destroy a person. So of course she suddenly felt alarmed, doubly so when Sasori beat her to a reply.  
  
“I was one of your daughter’s patients in Suna. She’s quite impressive...in no small part due to your exceptional parenting, I’m sure.”  
  
Sakura almost gagged. ‘The fuck?’ The dread she was feeling amplified when her mother made a noise of approval at the lip-service.  
  
“Oh my, how kind of you to say...Sakura, you’re letting _royalty_ stand outside _this_ early in the morning without offering them tea?” Mebuki sighed, shaking her head in disappointment. “Where are your manners?” Her daughter had not talked much about her work, citing nondisclosure agreements as the reason. Naturally, she was a little curious about one of the people she’d spent the last five years with. “Sasori-sama, is it?” She knew it from the news and Sakura’s rather rude description of him being... _persnickety_ about his looks. “Why don’t you come inside and have breakfast with us...or at least some tea.”  
  
 _Sasori. Having. Breakfast. With. Her. Parents._ _  
_ _  
_It was offensive to the entire universe and the thought almost broke her brain. “He can’t, he’s busy!” Sakura protested, trying to push him down the path and back towards his car. ‘I’m sorry Di.’ She really needed to stop giving her plants alliterative names because Di the Davallia fejeensis seemed to wave its little green fronds back at her. Sasori simply turned, shifted and escaped her driving momentum.  
  
“I would _love_ to.”  
  
He smiled, her mother smiled back and Sakura grit her teeth knowing she’d been beat. As soon as the door shut on her mother’s retreating form she had Sasori fisted by the front of his green-black shirt, the force of it bowing his torso towards her. “Sasori, I don’t know what you are up to, but so help me If you make my parents cry; _I. will. Break. you_.” It didn’t matter if she liked him or not when it came to her parent’s well being.  
  
Sasori took delight in the vicious glint of her green eyes and the fearless way she regarded him. The plastic expression he’d been wearing became a little less false as the normal pace of his heart took to a quicker cant at the thrill. “I wouldn’t dare.” After all, it would do him no favors to make enemies out of his future in-laws. His free hand slipped over her’s and coaxed her fingers out of the death grip they’d been holding his clothes with.  
  
Shifting her eyes to look at their briefly joined hands, Sakura shook loose and bent to pick up the hose she had dropped earlier. “You’d better not.” She would have to finish watering the plants later because she was not prepared to leave her parents with Sasori unsupervised. ‘That would be like dropping mice into a scorpion’s territory.’ Or more like letting a scorpion into a mouse enclosure. Neither scenario was good for the mammals involved.   
  
_Surreal_ did not even begin to cover the feeling of sitting at the kitchen table sandwiched between her father and Sasori. ‘Maybe I’m actually in a coma and dreaming this all up…’ That was almost more believable than hearing Sasori comment on the quality of Kizashi’s landscaping abilities. _  
_  
“I’d say it's on par with the mastery of Wind’s botanical gardens and they have an entire crew at their disposal.” It was a compliment to her father and yet somehow Sasori still managed to insult someone somewhere.  
  
Her father laughed good naturedly, the insult leveled at the garden staff soaring right over his head. “Chive never met anyone quite like you!”  
  
‘No, you haven’t’ Sasori sipped his tea, struggling not to stare at the man's brightly patterned shirt. 'He probably wears socks with sandals.' But at least half of Sakura had come from the man with sad taste and an... _interesting_ fixation on puns. They both laughed and smiled easily and her hair color had clearly been inherited from his side of the gene pool along with their interest in flora. ‘Her mother on the other hand…’ There was something almost suspicious in the way Mebuki’s green eyes glanced over him. Sakura once told him of her mother’s temper though thus far he’d yet to see it beyond the chiding she’d given her child outside.

  
As if to prove a point, Mebuki opened her mouth. “I’m a bit surprised to see someone of your status delivering forgotten plants. What brings you to Konoha?”  
  
Sakura gasped and slapped a hand on the table. “Who said I forgot my plants? That's a filthy lie, he st-”  
  
“I’m working on a _very_ important acquisition.” Sasori’s reply drowned her protestations out. “It may take some time…”  
  
“Don’t you have like, state duties to attend to?” Sakura watched as he cut his french toast into perfect, symmetrical pieces before eating them. “You should probably be getting back to your own country soon.”  
  
“Kankurō and Temari are picking up the slack along with my underlings. If there is a problem they know where to reach me.” And then he turned back to Mebuki. “I have to say that with your more than apparent skill in the kitchen I’m surprised Sakura learned nothing.”  
  
Sakura hadn’t learned _anything_ because her mother was always kicking her _out_ of the kitchen.  
  
Whatever wariness Mebuki had been feeling flew out of mind for the time being. “It's a wonder she didn’t starve when she moved out! She hasn’t even eaten this morning and I went out of my way to make something I knew she liked.” The whip thin woman gave a long suffering sigh.  
  
Sasori’s head slowly turned to Sakura. “She hasn’t?”  
  
“I’m not hungry.” Sakura scowled at the attention, curling in on Yūrei who was once again lounging in her lap. At least the cat wasn’t watching her with judging eyes.  
  
“You’re always hungry.” Sasori looked to her arm. “I was constantly cooking for you when you stayed with me.”  
  
“Stayed with him?!” Her parents echoed.  
  
“It wasn’t like you’re thinking! I worked odd hours because he was always calling me and I stayed in a guest room.” Sakura spoke quickly to clear up any misunderstandings they might have had.  
  
Sasori, unlike Sakura, was completely nonchalant about it all. “I have a heart condition and frequently needed attention.”  
  
“You don--” Sakura was cut off again and she sighed loudly.  
  
“Ah,” Mebuku cleared her throat. “Well, given that you’re still with us I assume she was good at her job.”  
  
“Your daughter is impeccable and her performance under pressure was nothing less than stellar.”  
  
If things had not been weird before, having praise sung about her to her parents by Sasori was fast pushing things into that territory. It felt like introducing a boyfriend to her parents and the thought made Sakura’s heart feel like lead in her chest. Sucking in a breath, she glanced down at the phone she’d been holding in a death grip the last twenty minutes and unlocked the screen. The profile she’d written was still open and all it took was the press of a thumb for her to publish it. There was no harm in meeting new people and with time and luck she would find someone she liked more than Sasori.  
  
“Sakura, Sasori-Sama asked you a question.” Mebuki tsked. “Don’t play with your phone at the table. Really, I don’t know what's been up with you since yesterday.”  
  
Crossing her arms Sakura slouched lower into her chair. ‘Blame him, not me.’  
  
Sasori was already inching her sleeve higher up her shoulder to get a glimpse of the cut he’d treated yesterday. “Is it still bothering you?”  
  
“Something certainly is.” Sakura mumbled. “What was the question?”  
  
“I asked if you wanted some help in finding a place...you’ve never bought a home before, I have.” Or rather several. “It never hurts to rely on someone with more... _experience_. I happen to know a real estate agent who can help.” Sasori fished a vial out of his pocket and twisted it open, dispersing whatever was in the eye dropper over the gash. 'Although I plan on paying Kakuzu to make sure she _doesn't_ find what she's looking for.' There was no point in her buying a place without his input.   
  
“What, hey! Don’t just apply stuff to me without telling me what it is!” The absolute nerve of him.  
  
“It's an essential oil, lavender to be exact. I told you to keep it moist...it has antibiotic and antiseptic properties and also increases collagen and tissue regeneration.” Especially after Sasori had manipulated the formula.   
  
“ _Before_ , not after! There is a proper sequence of events!” Sakura groaned and buried her face in Yūrei’s fur, fighting the urge to scream.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Ars Amatoria, or “The Art Of Love” by Ovid was basically a How to Manual written in poetic form on how to comport oneself in matters of wooing. Where to find a girl, how to win her...its mileage may vary as Sasori well knows...He should probably get some more modern reading material but he’s a snooty snob and also, he’d rather just build her a house or something and have Sakura swoon about his mad carpentry skills. He’s bad at the words.
> 
> Most of Shakespeare's plays put me to sleep--at least when it came to reading them. The exceptions being Othello and Macbeth. Othello was really interesting once I realized that Iago was the original Troll, someone who says shit just to cause trouble and watch people melt down. Of course that play ends up with just about everyone you like being dead…
> 
> Lmao I was away from this fic so long it honestly felt like I forgot how to write it...I stuttered about halfway through but I’ve regained my footing. (I think.) 
> 
> Technically speaking if Sasori wants to target a person for destruction for hurting Sakura he should have been aiming for himself. But he’s not a mind reader and neither is Sakura.
> 
> SMH, these two messes. Sasori thinks he’s being obvious ( he is or at least obvious for him) Sakura thinks it's impossible and is unwilling to see it.
> 
> In my personal view ( And I say personal because Sasori is a very interpretable character and how you see him depends on how you tilt him under a microscope…) Sasori is good at emulating “normality” he can read body language and facial cues to get by but he isn’t so great at interpreting the underlying causes. ( and most often he just plain doesn’t care.) I base this on the belief that his form of art in canon deals heavily in emulating the human form. That requires an understanding of people on some level. Puppeteering in the end is a performance art.
> 
> I have this tumblr post in which I went around collecting various faces that Sasori makes throughout his appearances and I don’t know if he’s a stoic or what, but I do believe that a lot of what Sasori portrays is him crafting an image to present to others therefore it is hard to tell what is really him and what he wants you to think is him. He makes a LOT of arrogant “:3” faces at Sakura during their fight until he realizes she made an antidote and it's at that point that he starts to become more unhinged.
> 
> It's that sort of enigmatic behavior that makes his character so much fun I guess.
> 
> Stealth edits later as per my M.O


	7. Flamboyant Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sasori made her feel a variety of things and that, Sakura decided was by far the most dangerous thing about him. 
> 
> It was also why she couldn't avoid him even if it was in her best interests.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [ Sayyikes ](https://sayyikes.tumblr.com/) did this art of the "The Moment" Forever ago, but I'm slow af. 
> 
> In any case ITS BEAUTIFUL, WEEP UGLY, UNMANLY TEARS AT THE SIGHT OF IT MORTALS.  
>   
>   
> 
> 
> Sasori: yes, crush that knee. Just like that. 
> 
> OP hasn't slept in a while, be gentle. I'm so tired I might as well be drunk.

Haruno Mebuki believed in politeness, society was built on _civility_. ‘Why without it we’d all be bludgeoning one another to death over every minor inconvenience and disagreement!’ And that, she decided, would be a terribly messy world. Naturally, she’d tried to instill the same ethos into her only child; _No playing with chopsticks_ , _elbows off the table. Don’t forget to say please and thank you. Be respectful of your elders and for heaven’s sake Sakura if you have nothing nice to say, lie. No! Not through your teeth, convincingly!_ And so she smiled despite the suspicion that had struck her from the offset.  
  
‘Nobility do _not_ deliver plants.’ They had staff for that and so did men with the amount of money he did--Mebuki read the tabloids _thank you very much_. She had to if she wanted to be informed about the people her daughter was working for beyond the tidbits Sakura offered. No matter how pleased she was to hear of her child’s successes and how highly regarded Sakura was, she wasn’t enthused with the intermixed lies she swore that she could smell. ‘The two of them are _far_ too familiar for doctor and patient.’ Or employer and former employee, there had been a clear crossing of that divide by their own admission. ‘They were literally cohabitating.’ How long or how often really didn’t matter to her.  
  
Sakura had not shifted away despite her complaints but she _did_ peep at the man from the corner of her eye using the cat’s ample fluff as cover. The angle she sat at concealed the looks from Sasori but standing at the counter Mebuki had a perfectly good view of what she was seeing. ‘And it's as adorable now as it was when she was three, batting her eyes at the playground boys.’ The increase in age didn’t change a thing but that could have been her motherly bias at work. _No,_ Mebuki certainly didn’t buy that it was simply professional between the two of them. ‘Not with the way he’s handling that arm of hers.’ It was doting, _fawning_ and It was happening at her damn kitchen table.  
  
Unsure of how she felt, Mebuki sipped her tea in silence and pondered over the facts before her.  
  
There had been a momentary sting following the application but within a beat or two all Sakura was left with was some mild tingling where the liquid had soaked into her skin. “Has this stuff been clinically tested?” It smelled familiar in a way that went beyond the scent of lavender but she couldn’t quite recall from where. “Oh my God, are you using me as a test rat for some new project? You’re not supposed to do that!” She thought about throwing the cat at his face. ‘Ah, but that would be cruel.’ To Yūrei and she simply couldn’t abide by that. ‘On the other hand if his face weren’t so pretty I might not be in the trouble that I’m in...’ The barely there touches on her arm weren’t helping as Sasori gave it a thorough once over.  
  
Despite being a somewhat lapsed Christian, Mebuki narrowed her eyes a fraction at the irreverent mention of God. ‘I should have taken her to church more when she was young.’ But she firmly believed that religion or lack thereof was a personal choice and not a thing to be forced. ‘Her Grandfather on the other hand…’ He’d been a terribly devout Catholic of mixed ancestry, strict but not unkind he’d simply pursed his lips at her choice of a Buddhist husband. In respectful remembrance she’d done her best to give Sakura a well rounded view of various belief systems. ‘Which apparently made her “ _Spiritual but not quite religious_ ” Whatever that means, probably more of that new age nonsense...’ Mostly it just sounded wishy-washy to her.  
  
“It's more of a... _homebrew_. I’d be happy to give you a walkthrough of its creation. My new property happens to be lousy with a variety of plants and they could use a good culling. There is a good chance many of them will have to be uprooted entirely.” In the end it would depend on Sakura if they remained, relocated or ultimately died. “If you find it familiar it's because you’ve used it before.” Injuries during her five year stay had been few and far between so it didn’t surprise him that she didn’t recall it. Sasori’s eyes flicked towards her hairline knowingly. 

“Is that so?” Narrowing her eyes, Sakura tried to pinpoint a _when_ within her memories but found the process to be difficult. Sasori liked to tinker with home remedies and she used that term loosely because the setup had been more of a miniature lab. She’d never had an adverse reaction but the same could not be said for other people. ‘Like Deidara…But that tongue swelling might have been intended all along.’ He couldn’t speak properly for three days and Sasori had been blissful about it. Tempted, she finally pulled her face out of Yūrei’s downy fur to look at him. "Sounds a lot like you’re looking for someone to do your gardening for you.” she accused without heat. ‘He hardly ever offers to show and tell...’

Sasori took obscurity and made it an art personally and professionally, his companies were notorious for keeping things under wraps--they had to if they wanted to stay on the cutting edge, whether it concerned gene and cell therapeutics or simple over the counter medications. He never shied away from discussing theoretics with her, but _showing_ was rare. ‘Like after I got dumped...maybe ghosted is a better term? Or the time after those goons tried to blow up my office... _Wait_ .’ Sakura’s hand flew to her temple. “Oh!” She vaguely recalled him stopping by after _that_ incident, tutting about the busted open skin and dragged her to get an MRI scan. ‘It was only a little concussed...’ Hardly something to worry about but he’d fussed over her head for a few days nonetheless.

Mebuki raised a brow at the loud gasp. “ _Oh_ what?”  
  
Wide eyed, Sakura flapped a hand dismissively. “Nothing.” She’d never told her mother about walking in on two men trying to turn her office into the epicenter of a massive explosion and getting her face slammed into a desk for her troubles. ‘Or about the sniper.’ Or any of the other less than wholesome incidents...and she had absolutely no intention of doing so, _ever_ .  
  
Now that she really thought about it, it seemed like his weird nonverbal method of comfort. ‘Like Sasori's way of saying _If you stop being a sad-sack I’ll show you something neat_ .’ Which made Sakura worry about how obvious she was being. “There are people you _could_ hire to do landscaping for you rather than scrounging around for free labor.” He wasn’t stingy or cheap; in Sasori’s own words if he _had_ to exist he might as well do it in luxury.  
  
“I’m looking for a more...personal touch and you're more than competent,” Sasori let the sleeve he’d hitched up drop back down once he was sure that the liquid had soaked into her skin. “You know what I dislike,” Which was a very long list that included letting strangers roam around on his property--he didn’t even like the majority of people he _did_ know doing that. “I’m not asking you to do actual work, just take a look.” He could have brought in the same crew who worked on the palace’s courtyard or one of his other homes but any excuse to see her was one he would use. “Besides you’ve got the time.” his fingers had caressed down to her elbow when a curious pink nose paused to sniffle at him.  
  
Sasori stared at the cat and the cat stared back unflinchingly. ‘This is the problem with them.’ Dogs at least had the decency to look away. Ultimately the cat decided that Sasori was just not _that_ interesting and turned back to kneading at Sakura’s upper thighs, basking in far too easily won affection.  
  
“Caring for potted plants is not necessarily the same as gardening.” Sakura glanced to the center of the table where the fern sat, fuzzy rhizomes poking out of the pot. “And I’m actually _quite_ busy...despite how it looks.” Which probably didn’t seem convincing since it was approaching 9am and she was still in her pajamas. ‘Wait.’ She thought, recognizing an in when she saw one. ‘Being allowed to poke around his house _would_ present me with a prime opportunity to steal back what he stole.’ Which wasn’t really stealing but... _reclaiming_ and the thought that she'd see more of him didn't even cross her consideration. ‘Because that would be an absolutely awful idea.’ Even if she wanted to, which she _didn’t_ .  
  
“I can make it well worth your time,” The scheming lilt of her lips was briefly glimpsed but Sasori was already considering the implications and planning a countermovement. “I’m sure I have _something_ you want.”

Sakura narrowed her eyes because they both knew he was holding her plants over her head like a carrot...or a sword. “Yes,” She dragged her fingers down Yūrei’s spine, finding the way the feline arched and purred to be cathartic, completely oblivious to the jealous eyes that tracked the movement. “And I’m sure you’ll be _very_ generous about it too.”  
  
 _“Extremely_ .” And he had been even before the Hippocrates Incident had driven the point home as brutally as it crushed that knee. Sasori had often found himself going out of his way for her, lingering in spaces he knew Sakura would gravitate towards or around the people he normally avoided like his grandmother. One year bled into two and he knew her favorite color and how much sugar she put in her coffee. ‘A ridiculous two teaspoons.’ And when he realized the majority of her meals came prepackaged or bought from a convenience store he found himself making her lunches, convinced that if he _didn’t_ she’d end up with diabetes or gout.  
  
In between sharing his books or debating the ethics of cloning and gene manipulation Sasori found himself buying or seeking out things he thought she’d like or purposely putting hurdles in her way just to see her triumph over them. There was a time where he had thought Sakura simply possessed abnormal pheromones that interrupted the typical modes of operation his brain went through. ‘The tests on that were inconclusive...’ That didn’t mean it wasn’t true but he was willing to admit that there were _other_ reasons and sometimes science _couldn’t_ explain everything. ‘Like why she hasn’t eaten...’ Even her coffee mug was full and cold to the touch--he’d checked by brushing the back of his hand against it earlier.  
  
Bless his heart, Kizashi was clueless to the odd flirtations occurring right before his eyes. “Sakura did plant the entire section of daffodils in the backyard before she went off to university and the rose trellis was her too--lovely thing in the summer.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “You know you’ve really only seen the front, Sakura, why don’t you take him out back?” He said, blinking at the pointed, noisy slurp of tea his wife took after his suggestion. It was a _sure_ sign the notion was somehow displeasing to her. One could make such distinctions after decades of marriage but figuring out the _why_ was another story entirely.  
  
Still, Mebuki smiled. “Yes, why don’t you?” She said, ever the proper hostess.  
  
Sasori’s eyes slid over to her expectantly as he rose from his seat. “Shall we?”  
  
Sakura _would_ have protested. She _would_ have said Sasori could walk his own tush out to the backyard and behold the legions that had amassed, awaiting the day that they gained sentience and could at last begin their hostile takeover. Her lips had just parted to say all that but then her mother set down her tea and picked up a spatula with what was _probably_ the completely innocent intention of washing it. ’Nevermind,’ She thought, visibly shuddering at the flood of flashbacks, she’d rather not test how old was _too_ old for a walloping. ‘But I’m taking the cat with me!’ If absolutely necessary she could use Yūrei as a distraction and escape by vaulting over the neighbor’s fence and flee to Ecuador before she did or said something stupid.  
  
Cat cradled in her arms, Sakura rose from her seat and shuffled from the kitchen to the dining room that adjoined it. ‘Which is mostly just for show like the dishes in the china cabinet.’ Except they’d used the room once or twice when there were too many people to fit at the four person table. “One day I’m going to use those plates.” And If she ever got married and _she_ got fancy dishes they weren’t going to sit in a glass case, locked up like national relics.  
  
“Plates?” Sasori arched a brow at the random, half mumbled utterance.  
  
Realizing that she’d said it out loud Sakura paused by the sliding door that led out into the backyard. She turned her head, peering around him as if looking for an eavesdropper. “The red and white ones in the other room.” She said after a moment.  
  
“You’ve sipped from more expensive cups than those.” Sasori replied without blinking. “Those celadon yunomi my Grandmother uses were handcrafted in the 16th century.” They'd survived several wars, civil _and_ national as they were passed from one woman in the family to the next. For a time that tea set had been his mother’s along with the accompanying iron kettle.  
  
Sakura gasped and clutched the cat to her chest. “I broke one of those!” A little over a year ago after complaining so vigorously about his nonsense medical complaints she'd shaken the cup right off the table. "No one told me it was expensive!" She would have been more careful, she would have paid for it. ‘If I had enough money…’ Although she wasn’t sure a price _could_ be put on family heirlooms. ‘Or national treasures.’ Oh god, she hoped it wasn’t that important. “Why would Granny Chiyo let me drink out of that?!” And more importantly let her _keep_ drinking out of it when she’d been so careless.

  
Rolling his shoulders into a nonchalant shrug Sasori pressed a hand into the small of her back and nudged her towards the door. "You’ve seen for yourself that it was well repaired." The vessel was now affectionately referred to by the old woman as _Sakura’s Cup_ and in his opinion kintsugi had only served to improve the look, veins of gold now soldered the greenware together in a truly unique way--which was perfectly suitable if it was going bare _her_ name. “As to the why...that's something you should probably ask _her_ .” He already knew that she was hoping to pawn the antique set off as a wedding gift, as had been done through the generations. [2]  
  
Sakura, still stuck in the concern that she’d damaged a priceless relic continued to quibble over the long past error. “The 16th century?!” That _one_ cup was probably more expensive than anything her parents owned and certainly older. “Doesn’t something like that belong in a museum?” Although now that she thought about it, Chiyo’s mansion _was_ open for public tours once a year. ‘Which she spends terrifying people with stories about gruesome deaths, ghosts and then pretending to die at the end of it.’ _Dear heart_ , the old woman had said, _if I have to put up with all these ruffians tromping about my house I might as well get some enjoyment out of it._ The very limited tours cost an exorbitant amount of money with the proceeds going directly to charity. _  
_  
“It wouldn’t be particularly useful in one now would it?” Museums certainly had their place and purpose in housing the items of the long dead or dispossessed pieces of history and art, Sasori even enjoyed perusing them on occasion but he also saw the value in keeping select antiquities _private_ . “Some things are meant to be functional. At least as long as _someone_ in the family has use of it, otherwise they’d be no different than those dishes in the glass case you’re so covetous of.”  
  
Sakura’s lips parted open for a brief moment before they shut soundlessly, finding that they could offer little rebuttal to that premise--not when she mostly agreed. ‘There’s really no arguing against it.’ Sakura slid the door open with her foot. ‘And it _is_ Granny Chiyo’s property...’ She just wished she’d been more careful. “Abandon all hope ye who enter here.” The quote was muttered under her breath as she sucked in a breath and stepped beyond the threshold. ‘If the one out front was an eyesore, this might as well be considered visual assasination.’  
  
Except Sasori was not looking at the garden, not at first. His eyes were on her, fixated on the fall of her hair and the worried press of her teeth against her bottom lip in the seconds before she turned away. ‘No doubt she’s still fretting over that teacup...’ The quotation only made his focus on her grow, a fact that would have been unsurprising if she had just a glimpse inside his head. To him, the classics sounded best when spoken by Sakura. "Behold, a deity stronger than I; who coming, shall rule over me." Like Dante’s Beatrice her eyes were green but _unlike_ the poet, Sasori was not to be satisfied with courtly love, to worship her from afar. The fates of Dante and his contemporary Petrarch were simply not suited to him. ‘They can keep their fame if it comes at such a steep price.’ [3]  
  
The original origin unrecalled or simply unknown, she mistook Sasori’s words of charm for those of awe inspired horror and turned to catch a glimpse of his face, curious as to how he was coping with the assault on his sensibilities. “Why, If I had only known plastic birds were all it took to bring you to heel, I would have bought some myself!” Sakura snickered, finding amusement in the idea of wielding a plastic flamingo against Sasori like a croquet mallet. ‘Or better yet, a crucifix against a vampire!’ That would have been very useful. Her laughter trailed off, stuttering to a nervous stop.  
  
“Oh.” Sakura squeaked, surprised that her sudden pivot nearly ended with her nose being snubbed against his jaw. From the start Sasori had only been two steps or so behind her, nearness masked in the agile way he moved--once or twice in the past Sakura had mistaken him for a ghost thanks to _that_ stealthy manner of movement and her own overactive imagination. 

Rooted to the spot, goosebumps began to prick along the flesh of her arms, a simple byproduct of Sasori’s warmth seeping through what Sakura surmised to be a cashmere sweater. His heat was at war with the cool spring air and it her trapped between the two opposing forces. The shiver that snaked its way through her had absolutely _nothing_ to do with the faint scent of cardamom and myrrh she caught intermingling with whatever wood he’d recently been carving, It might even have been because of the cat’s whiskers tickling at her sensitive ear.  
  
Unbeknownst to Sakura, Yūrei was staring over her shoulder utterly enraptured with the birds joyfully bathing in their basin, her citrine gaze was _almost_ as fixated on their target as Sasori’s were on the woman holding her.  
  
‘Only that and nothing more…’ Sakura told herself as her eyes traveled further up the sharp, well structured line of his jaw. His eyes were on her, the look in them not unlike the day before when she’d nagged him about his ethics or lack thereof. Deciphering the obscure meaning behind that expression was about as fruitful as deciding on the exact shade of his eyes, there were times when they seemed like a dark amber or the sepia tone of old photographs. In her current predicament they edged closer to a golden-copper, having soaked up fragments of sunlight.  
  
Catching herself mulling over the correct color, Sakura had to admit the truth of it. ‘It's not the cat or the temperature that’s the problem.’ The blame could only be laid on her wayward feelings. “Look, I know they’re tacky but it can’t possibly be _that_ bad. You’ve seen worse things!” She said, after coming to the conclusion that he had simply been stricken by the gauche sight behind her and was now looking to _her_ for some sort of explanation. ‘Well, what the hell does he expect me to do about them?’ It wasn’t like she could make him unsee what he’d seen.  
  
“Worse things?” Sasori blinked, the space between his eyebrows pinched for a moment before smoothing once more. It was true that he sometimes thought there could be _nothing_ worse than love with the way that it turned his order into chaos and robbed the very reason right out of his head but somewhere within those long recurring laments he would recall the empty stillness that had prevailed within him before her. Every task was tedious-- _pointless_ . Neither money nor success could fill the growing chasm and it turned out that blood and paint made a ghastly balm for the acedia that had become his default feature.  
  
It was into those festering, stagnate waters that Sakura had stumbled, kicking and splashing; _agitating_ as she poured new life into his veins. Sakura, who--as Sasori realized a second after blinking had _completely_ misunderstood what he’d meant. Time had the rather helpful habit of moving quicker in his head than it did in reality, a fact that made many assume he made split decisions. ‘Simply not so.’ While they were still on step _one_ , he was already off to step ten and had made several contingency plans along the way. ‘If she knew the context it would have made perfect sense.’ He blamed himself for failing to make sure Vita Nova made it into rotation, the thought of explaining it barely crossed his mind. ‘If I just give her enough breadcrumbs she’ll get to the right door.’ Eventually. Preferably soon.  
  
Unfortunately Sakura had already taken both the fresh _and_ the stale crumbs and started construction on a metaphorical gingerbread house of her own conclusions in the _wrong_ neighborhood. “You _have_ seen worse things, right?” Her head turned to scrutinize one of the nearest lawn ornaments. “Maybe I’ve been around them too long…” She trailed off, eyes growing wide. “What if they’re like...infectious or something and I start liking them?!” That would explain her father’s collection, he simply couldn’t help himself, they’d poisoned his mind. ‘What if it's genetic?’ No. No. No, She was spiraling. ‘It can’t possibly get any worse!’  
  
Keen for a good hunt, Yūrei crawled over Sakura’s shoulder with single minded intent, paws hitting the grass silently. Slinking low she disappeared into a tuft of daffodils and began to stalk her prey, leaving the humans and the messy business called love behind her.

Sakura gasped as the cat who had been laying over her shoulder ever more like a stole slipped off and the phone she’d tucked under her arm was sent thumping to the ground amidst the jostle. “Traitor.” She mumbled under her breath, bending to pick it up.  
  
Following her former line of sight Sasori was confronted with what he quickly concluded to be an affront to his theory of art, it was _almost_ as bad as Deidara’s vile philosophy. ‘Truly, I cannot decide which is worse…’ It would have been a fantastic feat if it weren’t for the sick perversion of his beliefs on display. Plastic was a medium that would last and the image before him _would_ become seared into his mind but…’It's all so very wrong.’  
  
There was a flamboyance of flamingos all throughout the garden, it was as if an entire flock had come just to stand within the Haruno’s well manicured backyard. He starred and they starred back but even under Sasori’s unblinking, _Unflinching_ scrutiny that would have terrified most of the earth's creatures, biology had cruelly dictated that he _couldn’t_ win a staring contest with inanimate objects.  
  
They were _everywhere_ ; lurking in the daffodils, perched in between the white azalea and peeking from around lush, red blossomed camellia. They were poised on pads of creeping phlox in every pastel hue made to mimic their natural marshy environment. ‘And these are only the spring blooms...’ The rose trellis Kizashi had spoken so proudly of was covered in green briar, buds still tightly closed as they awaited warmer weather.  
  
“Sakura.” The name so gravely slipped from Sasori’s lips as he placed his hands on her shoulders. “Are you being held hostage?” Looking behind her, he locked onto a pair of painted, cartoonish eyes. ‘Perhaps there are cameras in them.’ He thought, narrowing his own. "Is your father in a cult?” Maybe it was a cry for help. ‘With that shirt he was wearing it's very possible.’ It had been so, so very loud with its bright yellow rubber ducks.  
  
“We can fly from here tonight.” Sasori looked to a pair, their heads curled together in the crude shape of a heart. “Far away.” Somewhere beautiful enough to knock the current scenery from his eyes. ‘It wouldn’t work.’ That, he decided was the problem with an eidetic memory. ‘You’re stuck remembering both the best and the worst things with perfect clarity.’

The thought that he might have been serious about absconding together never entered Sakura’s head--it wasn’t the first time he’d mentioned running away. She didn’t indulge in the thought even as a thumb caressed the exposed length of her collarbone, a slip of the hand or even an absentminded gesture on his part but she blushed nonetheless, finding herself thankful he was busy glaring beyond her. “Don’t be ridiculous, he isn't in a cult.” Sakura said, forgoing her own concerns about genetics and the possibility that she too could become dazzled by pink birds-- _one_ of the two of them had to remain grounded.  
  
“He just has...interesting taste.” Her father had always been like that. ‘If he had his way the house would probably be painted neon green.’ Thankfully her mother seemed to hold back _most_ of his worst proclivities. ‘Like wearing stripes with polka dots…’ That had been a very embarrassing day at primary school and Sakura lived half her childhood in fear of a repeat.  
  
“Awful.” Sasori bluntly corrected, something she noted he had not _dared_ to do in the company of her parents. ‘It is her father…” And he was trying to be gentle about it but the man was like a visual representation for the word _tacky_. It seemed whatever talent Kizashi had in growing and designing gardenscapes was doomed to be overshadowed by his love of kitsch. ‘I suppose it could be worse...there could be some of those horrid little things in pointed hats _and_ flamingos.’  
  
“Speaking of which, would you care to explain what the hell that was in there?” Sakura jabbed a finger into his sternum, demanding his attention. ‘Yea, that's right look at me when I’m angry at you.’ Or at least when she was trying to be. The tilt of his head in her direction as she became the focus of his attention once more made her pause, digit affixed in the center of his chest. ‘Okay--wait, no, _don’t_ look at me.’ She begged silently, squeezing her phone nervously. The dusky way his lashes fell low over his eyes practically threw her breathing off pattern. ‘Hopeless.’ Now that she’d admitted that she felt _something_ for him she couldn’t even look him in the eyes without getting butterflies. It was bad, it put her off kilter which led her to feeling frustrated with the universe, but mostly him.  
  
Taking in her pink cheeks and the way her eyes had thinned into slivers of malachite, Sasori realized he didn’t have to go very far or even resort to bleaching his eyes to feel cleansed. “You did threaten to _break_ me if I wasn't nice.” If she moved her finger just a little to the left, it’d be directly over his heart, as close to touching it as she could come without ripping him open. ‘In a way, hasn’t she already done that?’ It hardly mattered that it was only in the metaphorical sense.  
  
“I said not to make them _cry_ , not make them think you’re an angel!” She’d just expected him to be less... _acidic_ with them, not _nice_. Not when it couldn’t be further from the truth. “And since when do you care? You’re the same guy who told that ambassador’s 5 year old that Santa Claus wasn’t real.” Sakura threw her hands up in frustration, her parents now had preconceived notions about him that just weren't true. ‘It's just that they’re going to misunderstand everything.’ Especially now that they knew she’d stayed at his house. ‘Oh god, they’re going to have so many questions…’ Mostly her mother. ‘And they think he’s nice!’  
  
“He isn’t.” They’d had this conversation before but Sasori liked rehashing it, adoring the way that it riled her. “But if he were he’d be breaking and entering--legal grounds to be killed.”  
  
“He is.” Sakura huffed, finger tapping a beat against his chest. “As a construct of human generosity and goodwill, which you _can’t_ kill.”  
  
“Which are almost as imaginary as he is.” Sasori snorted, there was a time where he would have said they didn’t exist at _all_. He’d decided to make a singular exception to the notion.  
  
“Anyways, the point is you can’t just ruin someone’s childhood...on _purpose_.” Accidents happened.  
  
“Little Girl, childhoods are _destined_ to be ruined and she was _awful,”_ The little terror had stuck gum on a 17th century gilded panel within the palace but worst of all she’d spilled purple grape juice all down the front of Sakura’s champagne colored dress. Sasori had _liked_ that dress and she’d ruined it...so he’d simply ruined something in return, tit-for-tat and all that. _“_ And so was her mother.” The woman thought she was above apologizing for her monster’s behavior and had soon after found herself recalled from her post. “Besides, look on the bright side; that brat got an entire year more of blissful ignorance than I did.” His fingers coiled around her wrist, not quite prepared to end the meager physical. Sasori watched as her eyes softened and her lips parted into a sigh, the tension in her shoulders melting off. ‘I don’t feel anything about it anymore.’ But she _did_ and he marveled at it.  
  
Sometimes Sakura forgot that once upon a time Sasori too had been nothing but a little boy, It slipped the mind so easily when he did his very best to emulate a slab of cold, sculpted marble. She knows the story not because he’s told it to her--not completely. It came in dribs and drabs, pieced together from the wayward comments that Sasori often dropped without expounding and hearing it second hand from Chiyo herself. ‘There's no child who knows about St. Nick, Christian or otherwise who hasn’t wished for something from him.’ If only just _once_. Maybe it was a puppy, or a new bike. ‘Or maybe it's for the dead to come back to life.’ Asking for such an impossible thing, disappointment was inevitable. The real Saint may have been capable of such things, if one believed in miracles but he was long dead; bones scattered.  
  
It ached to think about it; him with his letters--worrying if he needed a Christmas tree or a stocking. ‘And as sly as Chiyo was in catching what he was up to...no amount of toys could ever match what he really wanted.’ Thinking of it and remembering how often she took her own parents for granted turned her stomach. ‘He would have been happy if _they_ showed up in the ugliest Christmas sweaters ever created.’ Tinsel, bows, sequins, fuzz balls and all. It was dangerous to look at him, feeling as she did but Sakura took the risk anyway.  
  
Sasori’s usual, tepid apathy was nowhere to be found as his thumb slid from her pulse to the center of her palm, the closest Sakura could come to the expression was longing and witnessing it compressed her heart. ‘There is nothing I can do to make that better.’ It wasn’t fair. Even if she wanted too she didn’t know where to start. ‘We’re friends, there is nothing wrong with friends hugging.’ It wasn’t as if she hadn’t thrown her arms over him before, usually in excitement about something and she’d never had any qualms clinging to Sasuke, more invested in him than he was her. ‘All the more reason not to do it then.’ Sakura reminded herself of the importance of avoiding past mistakes. ‘Don’t detonate what you have, don’t ruin it.’ Whatever it was, it could be preserved so long as she kept her cool.  
  
Her fingers flexed over his, catching them between her ring and her middle finger, curling and hooking over his own. “I’m still waiting.” Sasori said, parsing the intimate way they twined together within his mind. He found those moments to be what tested his control the most, the little intimacies she fell into without sparing a thought to what they might do to him.  
  
Sakura’s brow furrowed, lips pursing. “For what?” For a split, fanciful second she thought he meant his parents, or a reply from a fat man he didn’t believe in. ‘Or for him to say that we should run away together again.’ She almost laughed at the notion. ‘What would he do if I said yes? Where would we go?’  
  
‘For you to see what's plain as day.’ But Sasori would be satisfied with more of her time, at least for the moment. “An answer--or two to be precise; The real estate agent I mentioned and coming over to look at the garden.” His eyes slithered over her shoulder and back to the menace's standing stalk still behind it. “The sooner you’re away from here the better.”  
  
Sakura, finding herself in the midst of wondering if Sasori would prefer a nice peaceful stay at a mountain chateau or traveling the European continent, stopped; well aware that she probably looked like a Nara deer under a spotlight. “Oh, right. _That_...Ha ha ha...” Her phone began to ring and buzz in her hand, which made her realize what her _other_ hand was busy doing. ‘No, no, no! Stop that.’ Silently chiding the wayward limb for what it’d done she untangled her fingers from Sasori’s. ‘If thy hand offends thee…’ She wasn’t quite to the point where she was ready to chop it off, but a reminder couldn’t hurt. ’Sometimes I wonder if Catholic guilt was ingrained into my being before birth.’ It would explain _so_ much. ‘So who was the savior who rescued me from my descent into madness?’ Her eyes darted to the phone. “Oh, it's Naruto.” That seemed pretty fitting to her.  
  
Even when he grimaced, and curled his lip in disgust Sasori was lovely. ‘Ugh, unfair.’ Sakura pouted and slid her thumb over the accept icon without hesitation. ‘When God or whatever omnipotent force tosses out a life preserver you’d damn well better take it.’  
  
“Sakura-chan!” Naruto whined into her ear. “I’ve been tryin’ to get a hold of you for ages! You came back to town and haven’t come to see me yet? That's just cruel, dattebayo!”  
  
Sakura had a very good view of the way Sasori vaguely rolled his eyes, in fact she wasn’t completely sure if he _had_ rolled his eyes. The movement was far too subtle to classify. “Ah, I’ve been busy.” As in, she’d been avoiding him because meeting Naruto came with a fifty percent chance of meeting Sasuke and that always made her feel like dirt--awkward, pathetic dirt. “You know settling in...”  
  
Sasori supposed he should have been thankful of the blonde’s existence; It was Gaara’s connection to Naruto and his to Sakura that inevitably brought the two of them together. ‘But I’m not.’ He was annoying. In the worst ways. ‘Disgustingly naive, loud, brash, optimistic and plainly idiotic and he has no concept of personal space or decorum.’ Naruto lacked any of the charm Sakura had and _anytime_ he showed up in Wind, Sakura stopped what she was doing for _him_. Covetous of her attention and time as he was, Sasori _hated_ that and despised the easy rapport the two of them had.  
  
Naruto was a part of her life that preceded him, a relationship that had helped shape her. The logical part of him that had a tendency to short circuit when it came to her knew that some measure of who Sakura was _now_ was due in part to Naruto but the possessive, snarling monster that lurked not too far from the surface didn’t really care. ‘If he ever gets elected to public office, he’ll be assasinated for sheer stupidity.’ And he wouldn’t feel bad about it at all…’ _Except_ that she would cry.’ he kept a mindful ear on the conversation even as his eyes wandered over the yard. ‘When you’re eavesdropping it's always best to seem uninterested.’ Even if it couldn’t be further from the truth.  
  
“Since you _finally_ picked up I’m going to assume you're free tonight?” Naruto’s voice wheedled in her ear. “We can go to Ichiraku’s tonight and catch up! You, me, Sasuke…Kaka-Sensei is off at some mountain retreat with Gai or something.”  
  
It was as his keen gaze cut across the garden that he caught sight of the cat’s tail skimming over the patch of tulips that surrounded the bird bath in the same way that a shark's fin would sluice through water, or the way that speckled lions stalked through the grasses of his country’s upper lands. ‘Oh.’ Sasori thought, finding that the sight before him was akin to watching a nature documentary in real-time.  
  
“And Sai. I don’t care that Sasuke can’t stand him.” Sakura cut in. ‘Was I thrown a life preserver or an anchor?’ She wondered, reevaluating her earlier praise. She missed the kitchen phone cord, it gave her something to fidget with. It didn’t matter that Sai and Sasuke practically hissed and spit at each other whenever they met, or that Sai had only fallen into their little group after the Uchiha had decided Sasuke was too _good_ for public school and sent him to a private academy for a few years. ‘He’s still a part of it...and he also makes a very good buffer.’ So no, she wasn’t going without him.  
  
Sasori’s eyes darted from the stalking cat to the nervous way Sakura had begun to gnaw at her lip. ‘Sasuke is _the_ ex-boyfriend.’ The first one, the one that seemed to characterize her view of every relationship that came after. ‘The other one only lasted a few months, not enough time to...traumatize someone I suppose.’ And had eagerly taken a promotion when offered without a second thought. What he knows about the first ex is that unlike Naruto, he _thankfully_ never called and most of the contributions he’d made to Sakura as a person had been negative. ‘She only ever seems uncomfortable when he comes up.’ Sasori simply didn’t understand why she’d bother going if it was half akin to torture.  
  
The cat leaped, paws and teeth catching hold of a plump little Narcissus Flycatcher--Sasori knew the bright yellow chest thanks to a birdwatching book he’d memorized in his youth. The rest of the bathing flock flew off in a frenzied, twittering hurry. ‘I wonder if they put the bird bath there with the express purpose of providing their pet with prey...’ If so it was positively, _deliciously_ diabolical of the Haruno’s. He thoroughly approved, watching the cat--Yūrei, begin to carry her prize in their direction.  
  
“Sakura…” Sasori had a good inclination of where things were going. ‘Because really, if I possessed less sense than I already do it's just the thing I would do.’ Nothing said love and devotion like murder. ‘Or providing vital sustenance.’ But Sakura was too busy listening to _Naruto_ to pay _him_ any mind. So naturally he decided to let the scenario play out for his own amusement. ‘Continue on Cat.’  
  
“So that's a yes then! Maybe this time they won’t dump ramen on one another...Or me.” Naruto mumbled under his breath about what a waste it was. “Anyways, I’ll call Sasuke and you can call Sai and we’ll all meet together at say...6pm, dattebayo!”  
  
“Ah wait!” Sakura began, ‘Because what if Sai can’t make it--I can’t go in there alone.’ Not if she could help it.  
  
“Bye!”  
  
Naruto hung up before she could finish adding an escape clause. ‘Damn it.’ It was definitely feeling less like a rescue and more like she’d been dropped into a frying pan where she’d be fried in the oil of her own insecurities and shame. Yūrei was mewling, sliding between her feet like a figure eight as Sakura thought. ‘I could pretend to have food poisoning...or better yet, my period!’ Neither of them would question that last one at all. “Hah?” Feeling something damp hit the top of her foot she looked down and blinked once or twice. Then she glanced from the bird, to the cat and then to Sasori as if to confirm that he too was seeing what she saw and then shuddered.  
  
“Even that cat knows you're incapable of feeding yourself.” Sasori intoned, smirking at the twitching mess of feathers that had been dropped on her bare foot.  
  
“I can so!'' The pitch of Sakura’s voice rose in denial. “What am I supposed to do with it?” Her nose scrunched up. She wanted to scoot away but the cat was still firmly fixed between her ankles.  
  
“Only if it comes prepackaged or out of a vending machine.” Sasori remarked slyly. “If the cat had its way you’d be eating it, after all It did go through the trouble of catching a token of its affection just for you...” He cooed, eyes gleaming.  
  
“If I ate it I probably _would_ get food poisoning and then I wouldn’t have to lie...” Sakura grumbled. ‘Or I would just kick the bucket and then all my troubles would officially be over.’ Yūrei looked up at her with big, luminous yellow eyes all while the bird's wings twitched against her toes. “Oh you little murderer! Why are you so cute?!” It wasn’t right at all.  
  
Tsking, at the praise Sasori reached into his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief. “ _I’m_ also very adept at body disposal.” Unlike _some_ creatures. He bent down and swiftly wrapped the unappreciated gift within it. The cat, displeased with what she viewed as theft, hunched behind Sakura’s leg and gave a bitter yowl having come to the swift conclusion that not only was he uninteresting, he was an awful and no good _cur_.  
  
“Thank you for adding one more “ _Is he a Serial Killer?”_ moment to my life.” The sarcasm of her statement was undercut by the lingering pat she offered to his shoulder. “Thank you...what’re you going to do with it?”  
  
“Trash Bin.” Sasori tilted his head in the direction of the porch, where there was indeed a lidded can. “Now, tomorrow; yes or no.”  
  
“You don’t think it’ll hurt her feelings do you?” Sakura worried, she’d never owned a cat before she didn’t really know the ins-and-outs. ‘I don’t even own this cat…’ Maybe she should get her own cat. ‘Ah but before that I should have my own house.’ Which circled her right back to the question he’d just asked her that she’d been avoiding. “Yes…” She agreed, because in her mind no good deed should go unrewarded. ‘And he did say he wanted my help.’ It was only right to return the favor. “Wait, tomorrow what? Tomorrow the real estate agent or tomorrow the garden?”  
  
“The feelings of felines are none of my concern.” Even if there was something vaguely reminiscent of one in the shape and color of Sakura’s eyes. ”And why not both? I’ll make the call when I leave.” Sasori decided, lips quirked into a faint, scheming smile. ‘We can make an entire day of it.’ Just him and her. ‘And Kakuzu.’ Briefly in any case. ‘Easy enough to get _him_ to leave.’ He only had to throw some money out the window and he had plenty of it to spare.  
  
“We should probably get back inside now.” If they didn’t her parents would start to suspect something. ‘If they don’t already. ‘ Sakura’s feet, now unencumbered padded across the grass and up the porch steps, leaving the door slid open for Sasori and the cat, at her own leisure to follow.  
  
Perfectly pleased with himself at securing an entire day's worth of her time, Sasori ascended the stairs and plucked the lid off the trash can, aware of the yellow eyes that tracked his movement. “Admirable effort.” He said to the cat. “Food _is_ a very good way to get her attention but you’re going to need something much larger than this,” Sasori shook the wrapped bundle, imperiously peering down his nose at the feline. “And opposable thumbs to cook it with." Checkmate.  
  
Hissing, Yūrei simply gave him her back and slunk her way beyond the door with Sasori following a moment or two behind  
  
“Oh yes, he simply _adored_ the flamingo’s.” Sakura crooned after scooping her favorite, living pillow up and rubbed her cheek against the blasted cat’s head.  
  
The coquettish, gleaming eyes Sakura fixed him with were almost enough to take his breath away. ‘That look...’ It was among Sasori’s favorites by far; self satisfied and full of mischief; from how she attempted to hide her smile against the white fur, to the way she boldly met his gaze as the beguilements fell from her sublimely shaped lips. It set his blood ablaze in the way that only she’d ever been able to do.  
  
“Didn’t you Sa-so-ri?” Sakura bit back a giggle as she plainly lied about his thoughts and feelings on her father’s strange fascination. ‘Well, he’s the one who started it.’ She was simply helping him along into their good graces. ‘But if he flounders...well, that _would_ be amusing too.’ She wondered how he would strategize a recovery but found the odds of Sasori slipping up to be exponentially small.  
  
‘Minx.’ Sasori thought with pride, mask firmly in place as he looked to her parents. “Yes.” He replied oh-so-pleasantly. “I find them to be absolutely _unique_.” Whether it was that day or the next, there would be plenty of time to get her back and he would be sure to enjoy it as thoroughly as Sakura was enjoying her current victory.  
  
Unbeknownst to _him_ that one little lie would someday return to haunt him. 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [1] Yunomi- tall japanese tea cups, less formal than Chawan which are used during japanese tea ceremonies.
> 
> [2] Kintsugi- the Japanese art of repairing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with lacquer dusted or mixed with powdered gold, silver, or platinum, it treats breakage and repair as part of the history of an object, rather than something to disguise.
> 
> [3] Sakura quotes Dante’s inferno, the warning inscribed upon the gates of hell as he begins his descent. Sasori responds with a quote from Dante’s lesser known “La Vita Nuova.” Which contains both prose and verse, it's a book which in my opinion reads like the guy’s diary--within it he writes of how he first met Beatrice and then once more while standing in the street years later--upon seeing her walking and being given a cordial “Good day sir.” He practically swoons. He writes of the first time he saw her saying; “Behold, a deity stronger than I; who coming, shall rule over me." And in a way she did. This guy would linger in the streets of Florence just hoping for a glimpse of her.
> 
> Beatrice was only ever described by him as having “Emerald eyes'' The love that Dante harbored for her is depicted as a pure, courtly thing. He Idolized and worshiped her from afar, practically made her a saint in his writings.They met at most three times but he would harbor those feelings for her all his life, even after she died. ( despite this love he did marry and have children, but he never wrote of his wife and his daughter would go on to become a Nun, changing her name to Sister Beatrice.)
> 
> The same “love from afar” would be seen in Petrarch for Laura, who perhaps knew of his feelings but virtuously rejected him because she was married. She also died before him, leaving him to mourn. Ultimately one might argue it was the torture of unrequited & unspoken love that inspired their writing and made them famous.
> 
> Tldr: Sasori gets hot under the collar about weird things, one of which is Sakura quoting the "classics" and he is using semi-obscure literary quotes to flirt again and she’s missing the point again. Literary flirting is such a nerd thing…
> 
> A group of flamingos is referred to as a flamboyance, or a Stand heh. [Insert Jojo joke]
> 
> Sasori: True beauty is permanence, whether in thought or form.  
> Plastic flamingo: -existing-  
> Also Sasori: Wait, no. You can’t do that to me, how dare you.
> 
> Kizashi can help grow a good, beautiful, healthy, child and more plants than you can shake a stick at but...he has very poor taste in clothes and lawn ornamentation.
> 
> I think I also suffer from Infectious Flamingo disease or IFD as I have come to term it. IDK guys the more I look at them the more I like them and the more I hate that I like them...I lost one of my earrings cooking dinner a week ago, it was very upsetting. They got me. It's all over now.
> 
> It’s been a very trying few weeks, basically writing back to back and some days I’m just like; ≖‿≖ “Maybe today is the day I disappear into the woods and don’t come back lol.” Forget about tossing a coin to your witcher guys, toss a comment to your fanfic writers. Otherwise we start to have grand ideas about throwing ourselves down wells or living in hobbit holes.
> 
> The problem with having so many stories is that in the time it takes for me to cycle from one to the next I feel like I’m struggling to regain the tone that I originally had...and for some reason In this chapter I was endlessly second guessing how I was writing, so if you do note that it feels “off” I’m sorry lol, I tried. 
> 
> Ps. Did I hit you heavy in the feels this chapter? Baby Sasori writing to Santa “Give me my parents back...pwease.” Only to get a fat lotta nothing...I feel so mean but lol, Sakura mistaking his longing to be about his parents and not what it actually was--him wanting to kiss her. meanx2
> 
> Fun facts about the historical, jolly old Saint Nicholas: He once--allegedly slapped a guy for being a heretic and his bones were split between Bari and Venice...cause you know MAGIC BONES. He became the patron saint of children from a story that began to circulate after his death of how he resurrected three boys who had been murdered and placed in brine--intended to be sold as pickled ham during a time of famine. St.Nick walks in and tells the butcher “I don’t like the look of you...or this mystery meat. BY THE POWER OF JESUS!” -makes a cross- and BAM resurrected, pieced together kids.
> 
> P.s.s Its Sasori’s birthday and my gift to him is...nothing but frustration lmao. Speaking of Saints, Sasori’s birthday is the death day of “The Four Crowned Ones” The patron saints of stonecutters, masons and sculptors. He’d approve. They said “we ain’t carving your pagan god.” and Emperor Diocletian said “Lmao, K. Hope you can swim in lead coffins!”
> 
> They couldn’t.

**Author's Note:**

> I have literally no idea where the fuck this thing came from but here it is¯\\_(ツ)_/¯ ...Sakura is entering that stage in her life where she’s got babies on the brain and Sasori is constantly confusing her and making life difficult.  
> Any further chapters of this are likely to be small in length.


End file.
